Dottore
by IfEaRnOfIsH
Summary: Abstergo has meddled too much, for too long. The threads of time are crossing, and the Doctor and all that he is are being sucked into the chaos, where a man lies in an Animus in a corrupt TORCHWOOD. All hope is lost - for now. T for language and themes.
1. Prologue

**Is it time for a crossover? I think so. :3 So here's my baby - I've been working on the past ten chapters nonstop so I have something to entertain anyone who's vaguely interested in this in the looming exam period while I get busy with revision. Lemme' know what you think, I've LOVED writing this. Thank you (as always) to the sexy Kiarra-Chan for her beta'ing help, and to SchmEthan, who will always be my grammar hero :3  
>On with the show, my friends! :D <strong>

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><p><strong><em>Kings and queens and presidents, ministers of governments - welcome to the future of your world.<br>_**_Take That - Kidz_

_6__th __of April, 2012. Scotland. _

The head of TORCHWOOD 6.2, located in the remote parts of Scotland, sipped his coffee. It was nasty – bitter and cheap- but the caffeine was all the same.

Do you know what isn't all the same?

Everything.

Everything- and everyone- is different. Black, white, tall, short, fat, slim, loving, caring, warm, cold, dark, murderous. Humanity has one heart, but many, _many _different veins.

And TORCHWOOD 6.2 was one of the smallest capillaries of the TORCHWOOD organisation, and the least supplied. Think about it. London was TORCHWOOD's beating heart. Supplies– the blood- comes from it. By the time it gets to Scotland, it's used. Worn. Communication between the heart and Scotland was buggered, and the equipment only worked once in a blue moon. 6.2 was on its own.

And that made it bitter. Like its coffee.

Sighing, the head of the TORCHWOOD 6.2 set the polystyrene cup onto his desk and, laying his hands on the surface, stood up. His chair rattled behind him as he moved out from behind his desk and went to the nearest glass wall, and looked out at the rows upon rows of computer screens, worked by men and women in crisp blue uniforms. His eyes moved to the screen in front, which tracked any and all movements in Scotland's outer space. His lips twitched ever so slightly.

The call had been a strange one. It had come from an American man, whose voice sounded like rough, worn out gold.

It hadn't been a very beneficial conversation.

"_Am I speaking to Darren McDonald?" _

"_Yeah."_

"_Head of TORCHWOOD 6.2 – located in Aberdeen, Scotland?" _

"_How do you know who I am? And how the fuck did you get my work number?" _

"_I think you'll find I'm a very resourceful man, Mr McDonald." _

McDonald's lips twitched again. He _was _a resourceful man. And a persistent bugger too – after McDonald had ripped the SIM card out of his phone, smashed it and then thrown the whole thing into a river followed by a brick to make sure – the stranger called him again at his office.

"_Darren McDonald." _

"_Ah, good afternoon Mr McDonald!" _

"_Leave me the fuck alone."_

"_Don't be so hasty! You and I have a lot to discuss."_

"_I don't want to hear it. I can get forces outside of the government to track you down and rip the shit out of you." _

"_Now, you and I both know that that isn't going to happen. When was the last time London contacted you?  
>"…"<em>

"_I'm going to take that silence as an 'I don't know.' Don't suppose you're very fond of them, either?" _

"_Those stuck up pricks don't know what real work is." _

"_Ah, a man after my own heart!"_

"_Look, what do you want from me?"_

"_Just some help. I want you and your small team to help me find a man."_

"_A bit of man on man action, is that what you're looking for? You just want the high street on Saturday night." _

"_Very funny, Mr McDonald. No, I'm searching for a specific man. A man of great resource and power." _

"_I know a few." _

"_I bet you do. I don't suppose you would know of one called 'The Doctor'?" _

"_His file is the most read one in TORCHWOOD history. Knowing about him gets you in, actually meeting the bastard gets you a senior position." _

"_I think we're going to get along very well, Mr McDonald."_

Darren McDonald's eyes slowly came to rest on the place where all the wires from the computer met. The thing was coffin shaped, with an elegant curved strip of glass at its very top. Images flickered on the inside of it, reflecting off the eyes of the man inside the thing.

He was the beating heart to all those computers. The centre of it – the grand piece. The key.

"_Who are you?" _

"_My name is Warren. Warren Vidic. And I'm your new best friend, Mr McDonald." _

**So how's it looking so far? :D Do leave me a review - I promise there'll be lots more to come :3 Much love all! *Heart with hands* **


	2. Chapter One

**I know its very quick, but my prologue's so short and I had chapter one all lovely and beta'd, so here we go. Thanks for reading! :D **

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><p><strong><em>Its SICK SICK SICK! Humans have their needs, in a fairytale that's tearing at the seams!<br>_**_Bayside - Sick. Sick. Sick. _

_6th__ of April, 2012. Scotland. _

'Your tea, sir.'

Darren McDonald turned and saw a cup and a saucer being placed on his desk with a man who looked – very accurately - like he'd been beaten into submission. His jumper was torn, his hands were bruised and cut, and his glasses were cracked. McDonald's eyes were drawn to the flashing thing on the man's wrist like a magpie to a coin – an electronic manacle. It would send enough voltage through the man to kill an elephant if he ever got five metres away from the building. Another of the many lovely little toys Vidic had given to him.

Including the poor bloke himself.

'Sort your shirt out, Hastings. You look shit,' McDonald said, his broad accent making his voice almost a purr. With a scathing look, Shaun Hastings smoothed his collar out – which was stained with blood, much like the rest of him- and said 'Will that be all?'

McDonald's eyebrow moved.

'Sir.'

'No, Hastings. Stay a bit,' McDonald said brightly, taking his tea from the desk and holding the saucer delicately under his chin as he sipped. 'Mmm. Good,' he said as he set it down again. ''Spose it's in your blood, good tea, eh? What with you being a limey.' He grinned at Shaun, who just glared. 'Come on now, crack a smile.'

More glaring.

'Suit yourself,' McDonald said, loosing interest fairly quickly, beginning to turn back to the window, and then turned back with a sudden thought. 'And get it a bit quicker next time. I had to go get coffee _myself _while I was waiting for you to stop pissing about with tea bags.'

'Noted. Sir.'

McDonald looked out at his kingdom of keyboards and data. 'Ain't it beautiful?'

'Exquisite,' said Shaun with enough irony to leave a metallic taste in the mouth. McDonald didn't bother to chastise.

'All those computers! All those people!' he flaunted. 'Handy bunch, those Templars. That Vidic, too, he's a top bloke.'

Silence from Shaun.

'Whose the fella' in the Aniwotsit?'

'His name is Desmond.' Shaun's fists clenched at his sides. McDonald let it slip by, content to watch his rage boil in the reflection of his window.

'Miles! I remember now. Interesting bloke – fancy being descended from a bunch of Assassins. My ancestors ain't much too look at; mam came from the sewers and my dad even lower. Fuck knows why my grandparents even bothered. But Assassins! Now there's something interesting.' McDonald craned to focus on the corpse like figure in the Animus. 'S'no wonder Vidic's got all these people to pick through his DNA. Technology these days, eh? Memories of your great great great uncle in your blood. Well I never.'

McDonald watched Shaun's reflection, wondering how far he could push it. Not long now.

'Shame Vidic wouldn't tell me what he's looking for though. Said it was top secret.' He laughed. 'He's gonna' come in here, take over my TORCHWOOD, give us all these smart blue uniforms, plug some randomer in my plug socket and he won't tell me what he's looking for. Cheek! Can't complain, mind.'

'TORCHWOOD will never be yours.'

There it was. It was like the beginning of the whine the kettle makes when it's about to come to boil.

'Oh?' McDonald said slowly, clasping his hands behind his back and turning around to face Shaun. Cocky little bastard. 'And who says so?'

'London.' Shaun hissed. 'I've worked with them before. When they find out what you're doing here, who you're helping, they'll rip you apart.'

'Will they now?' McDonald asked, openly grinning at him, his tongue pressed against his teeth. 'And, if they did, d'you know who I'd ensure got ripped apart first?'

Shaun, shaking in anger, was silent.

'Your girlfriend.' McDonald hissed in glee. 'Down there.' He added, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

McDonald's inner eye travelled down into the centre of 6.2, along the computer row before last, third seat along, and saw a scared looking girl typing away with a black hair and an eye to match, a torn lip, and an electronic manacle on, working to keep herself alive. He got a viscous sort of pleasure from it. Shaun didn't have to imagine – because through his cracked glasses, he saw a beautiful woman who surely would be quietly working on hacking the mainframe and getting them out of there.

'What was her name, limey?'

'Rebecca,' Shaun breathed.

'Rebecca. Nice name,' McDonald reflected briefly, before raising his watch to his lips and speaking into a microphone concealed there.

'Row 12. Third seat along.'

In 6.2, doors at the end of the room burst open. Two guards with metal batons strode down the corridor between the rows, taking a sharp left at row 12. McDonald stepped back as Shaun threw himself at the window, yelling her name over and over pounding on the bullet proof glass as they dragged Rebecca out of her seat.

The workers around her didn't move a muscle, only the ones in their fingers as they carried on typing.

Her yells didn't reach them, but McDonald could see them plainly enough as they threw her onto the ground and kicked her squarely in the ribs. He watched Shaun with interest as he began to cry, screaming her name, slapping the glass with the flat of his palm. It was only when the batons were raised that McDonald spoke into his wrist again - the guards moved away from her at once, standing to attention as she struggled to lift herself up from the floor.

'If that's what _I _can do to her, imagine what London'd do,' he hissed at Shaun, who was staring at Rebecca while taking deep, shuddering breaths. 'She's no different to any other of the workers in there. They'd storm in and shoot to kill. Bullet straight through her head.' He demonstrated on Shaun, pressing two fingers to his temple and pressing hard. Shaun started violently. '_Bang,_' McDonald hissed, and took his hand away. 'And that's why they're not going to find out. Most valuable worker we've got – she knows Miles' DNA like the back of her hand. Vidic wanted us to take special care of her. And that's why they didn't break her fingers.'

They both watched Rebecca raise herself up to glare up at the office. McDonald met her eyes – he could tell that look of hatred was for him. He smiled and waved, and she sagged.

'Rebecca…' Shaun murmured.

'Go make the tea for everyone. There's a good lad.' McDonald murmured.

Shaun fled.

McDonald watched Rebecca struggle back into her seat, slumping there as she took up her keyboard. He looked away, went back to his desk, and drank his tea.

Humans could be fucking pathetic, sometimes – he reflected.

It was a good thing he thought himself above them.

**So there's a bit more content for you. Hope you're all still interested! When you review, you make my life. :3 Chapter two up probably during the week! :D *Heart with hands* **


	3. Chapter Two

**I do have to give props to SchmEthan for his beta'ing. DESPITE hating Assassin's Creed/XBOX/Anything that isn't Nintendo/Star Fox - he beta'd this. Even though metaphorical tea was in order. :3 Short and sweet, but enjoy! **

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><p><strong><em>Its not enough, it never is, I tell myself - I can take this.<br>_**_I Fight Drgaons - Welcome To The Breakdown_

_March 16__th__, 1500. Rome_

_La Volpe Addomentata _was suffering from a hangover. Its customers groaned as they woke up in their own drool, limbs feeling heavy and their heads pounding. Some lugged themselves to their feet and limped from the inn – while others simply groaned and called for more beer.

Except for one strangely dressed lump at the back. He hadn't had anything to drink the previous night, but slumped at his bench, placed his head on his arms and fallen into a very deep sleep – almost a coma.

The strangely dressed lump was named Ezio Auditore da Firenze. And he had the perfectly sensible idea of sleeping in a place where a sleeping man would not go amiss. In a tavern. He was no different to the snoring man across from him, who was giggling in his sleep, other than the fact he was wearing elaborate robes that marked him as the _Maestro _of the Assassin Brotherhood.

There wasn't an awful lot of sleep to be had for an Assassin. So little, in fact, that any opportunity to sleep without the risk without waking up to a knife in the back was welcomed without question. Well, with _La Volpe Addomentata_ doubling as the thief hideout, a knife would most probably end up in _a_ back, but as long as it wasn't his, Ezio couldn't care less.

He'd been chasing the Borgia for too long now. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't getting any younger. Rest was a necessity now, not an option.

And so, he slept on amongst the drunkards and thieves.

A man appeared in the doorway leading upstairs, leant there, and watched Ezio sleep. His garb was similar to Ezio's – except orange, but he also favoured the hood for the means of concealing his identity.

If you're going to be the head of the thieves, you may as well do it with style.

La Volpe moved forward and, laying a hand on the Assassin's shoulder, gently nudged him awake.

'Ezio. Ezio, come on.'

Ezio sat bolt upright, far too in tune to his surroundings already, remembered where he was, and then groaned, covering his eyes with his hand.

'Forgive me,' he murmured, in the gravelly voice of a man who had just had nine hours sleep and still needed ten more.

'There is nothing to forgive,' La Volpe said, waving the apology away. 'We all understand how tired you are. You need the rest.'

'I never needed it, back in _Venezia,_' Ezio said, pushing his fingers into his eyes. 'Tell me, is old age a thing that happens to everyone?'

La Volpe smiled sadly. 'I'm afraid so.'

'_Merda,_' Ezio summarised. 'Yesterday, I didn't spot a guard until a crossbow bolt went past my ear. I'm going to get myself killed before I get my hands on the Apple.'

'We are closer than ever before to getting it,' La Volpe encouraged. 'Soon, it'll be over.'

'When this is all done, I plan to rebuild the Villa,' Ezio said, smiling quietly. 'And chase girls well into my nineties.'

La Volpe laughed. 'Sounds like a plan.'

Ezio got to his feet, and winced as his limbs remembered the night he had spent sleeping awkwardly. 'I have to leave now. Leonardo wishes to meet me – he has a new Codex weapon for me.' He looked sombrely to the single brace on his wrist. 'It's been a hard while without them.'

La Volpe reached out and grasped his arm. '_Buona fortuna_, Ezio.'

Ezio returned the gesture. 'And to you, La Volpe.' And, ensuring his dagger, sword and single blade were in his possession, he opened the door and went out into _Roma_. The smell of fresh air hit him first, and he took a deep breath. He then suddenly felt as though something was wrong. Quite wrong. He could _feel _it – it was almost as if every particle of his being was either trembling or fighting another. He shuddered, and looked up at the sky.

Maybe a storm was on the way. The sky did look a little grey.

Putting it out of his mind, Ezio found his horse and stroked its muzzle absently before seizing the reins and hauling himself on. It pawed the ground anxiously and, with a nudge of Ezio's knees, took off into _Roma._

**OH FIRST EVER TIME WRITING ANYONE ANCESTORY! D: Hopefully I got Ezio and La Volpe right, but I'll leave it up to you guys D: Review! *Heart with hands* **


	4. Chapter Three

**HAI GUYZ. I know my characters are a bit off in this one, but I hope to improve! (And I just noticed while typing this up the the original word count was 666. Wonderful. XD ) Enjoy! :D **

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><p><strong><em>Well sometimes its good, and sometimes its bad, but living with you - you're driving me mad! And sometimes its good, and sometimes it bad, well living with you, its becoming a drag...<br>_**_Scouting For Girls - It's Not About You_

_Time is Relative  
><em>

There's not a lot that's above humans. Humanity's pretty supreme - and that's the problem with it. There's no one else higher to fight, so they fight each other. Tearing each other and their little planet apart. All fighting for ground and status.

But that's looking at it from a metaphorical point of view.

If you consider it from a _literal _point of view, then it's a whole different story.

Space is much, _much _higher than humanity. The blackness. The stars. The planets. And the police box spinning and whirring through space and time.

And in the police box floating high above Earth and its disgruntled little humans, there was an alien. And two other humans of the decent sort who'd tagged along for the ride. The alien was called the Doctor, and the two humans were called Amy and Rory. The Doctor didn't mind Amy and Rory being there in his little patch of space. In fact, they were quite good company.

The only problem was this:

They were married.

'Here?'

Amy, one hand on her hip and the other on her chin, eyed the new spot of the coat rack. Rory stood by it, watching for a response.

'No, I liked it better over there.'

Rory physically sagged, rolling his eyes. 'It was _just _over there!'

'Well, I didn't have anything to compare it with, did I? Put it back.' She said, waving her hand. Rory looked like he might say something else, but he sighed, picked up the coat rack, and moved it to the other side of the TARDIS doors.

Amy tilted her head. 'Y'know, I think I liked it better over there.'

The Doctor, hiding behind the other side of the console, began to mutter incoherently. His previous persona had had something to say about domestics in space, and he was rapidly forming the same opinion. Space wasn't dull. But _domestics_! It was making everything so utterly tedious that he was sure his lovely big brain was going to start leaking out of his ears. He covered said ears, fingers fisting in his hair and prayed for it to stop. It wasn't working. He could still hear them bickering. They weren't even arguing, they were _bickering_, for crying out loud. Even the hum of the TARDIS console wasn't drowning them out.

He was going to go mad. Madder than a madman with a blue box should be.

'Look, can we just leave it, love?' Rory pleaded, plonking the coat rack down again.

'It's getting _boring_, just sitting there!' Amy said, wondering over to it and looking it up and down. 'What if I put some fairy lights on it, that'd brighten it up a bit – '

And there was the breaking point.

'_NO! _NO FAIRY LIGHTS!' The Doctor all but screamed, jumping to his feet. Rory started slightly, and Amy wheeled around with wide eyes. 'You're domesticating my lovely space ship! _STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT._ That coat rack is there because it's _convenient_. Leave it alone. And grow a backbone Rory, for crying out loud!'

Rory opened his mouth to protest, but Amy got in there first.

'It's your fault for having no taste! A coat rack in a space ship – _really_?'

'Its not about colour coordination, it's about _convenience._'

'Who actually hangs coats on the bloody thing?'

'I do! And I've seen your _scarves _on there, too!'

'My scarves are nice!'

'Rory, _tell _her to be quiet!'

'I'm actually going to slap you around the – '

She didn't finish her threat – for when she opened her mouth to utter what part she would slap, a telephone began to ring.

All three occupants looked at each other with wide eyes, knowing full well that there were only a handful of people across time and space who had that number.

The Doctor reached for the phone.

**DUNDUNDAH. Anyway, not exactly long, but there you go. More to come, and plz review! *Heart with hands* **


	5. Chapter Four Phase One

_**OHAIR DERE. My name's Document Uploader and I'm not going to upload your chapter four properly! I'm going to put the whole thing in italics so nothing makes sense and you look like a total idiot! :3  
><strong>_**I apologise for the technical difficulties. Document Uploader's being an arse, so I've had to upload the whole of chapter four in seperate parts. Please bear with me! D:**

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><p>'<em>Darren McDonald speaking.'<em>

'_Mr McDonald! How have things been going up there?' _

'_Like clockwork, Sir. Like fucking beautiful clockwork.'_

'_I see. Well, with that in mind Mr McDonald, I think that now would be the best time to strike.' _

'_For real?' _

'_Yes, Mr McDonald. For real. I trust that everyone I, ah, entrusted__into you has been kept secure?' _

'_We had to, er, convince Crane and Hastings to cooperate.' _

'_Any damage?' _

'_Nothing more than a few bruises and some rounds of psychological punishment, Sir.' _

'_I do like your methods, Darren. Subject Seventeen?' _

'_Practically a corpse.' _

'_Good, good. Oh, and what about Stillman?' _

'_Not a peep, sir. That bird don't sing no more.' _

'_Oh she will, believe me. Prepare for my arrival in the next two days. Once I'm through with her, she'll be giving us a chorus.' _

'_Um. Yes, sir.' _

McDonald hadn't felt this nervous in a long, long time. He chewed on his nails. This was the big moment. It would make his career. That top job at Abstergo was in his reach, but if he fucked this up…

He couldn't think about it.

He paced some more in the reception of TORCHWOOD 6.2 – well, the reception building of Aberdeen Storage and Co. The secretary behind there watched him, getting bored of him very easily. His mere presence pissed her off too – one's opinion of another lowers significantly when the pair of you fuck at his apartment and he doesn't call you back.

When his telephone call with Vidic had ended, McDonald had poured himself a hearty drink, and then another, and another, and another until he was too drunk to notice Hastings slip into the room, extract something from the computer sitting on his desk with great care (Which involved the hacking of with a screwdriver) and creep out with the thing clenched tightly in his fist.

Not that it mattered at that precise second, anyway.

His seconds since then had been spent thinking about this moment. And now he was running out of them to think about it.

He had three left.

Two.

One.

There was the sound of a car pulling up outside. McDonald's head snapped up, and he watched a black limousine glide up outside the doors. He hurriedly smoothed down his uniform to ensure that there were no creases, and then he looked towards the secretary.

'Look busy!' He snapped as the doors were opened by two huge guards in black suits, with ear pieces and wires coiling down their necks.

And between them and the doors stepped a man with grey hair, a white lab coat over a suit and a voice like rough, worn out gold.

'Mister Vidic! Sir!' McDonald stuttered, sticking out his hand as the man approached. Vidic's eyes travelled around the room, ignoring both McDonald and his hand. 'This is just the front of it, sir.' McDonald said hastily. 'The _real _stuff's out back.' He cracked a smile, but soon lost it when Vidic turned his eyes on him.

That look was cold. Void of any warmth.

'Very good.' He said, in that voice that didn't sound so golden to McDonald anymore, and then went past him. The men in the black suits followed him. McDonald stared after him, and then felt the secretary's eyes on him. He couldn't remember her name.

She gave him a withering look, and popped her gum.

'What the fuck are you looking at?' He demanded.

She raised her eyebrows once, and then went back to her computer screen. McDonald rolled his shoulders, and moved out of the room to hang behind Vidic like the kid who'll never be accepted into the coolest gang at school, but wants to be with all his heart and soul.

**GO ON GO READ THE NEXT PHASE! **


	6. Chapter Four Phase Two

**I think it's this bit here that made the document uploader freak out and assume I wanted the whole chapter in italics. Ah well. Keep reading guys!**

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><p><em><strong>Extract taken from Abstergo Employee Handbook, Edition 509 – Section 646 – The Perfect Prison.<br>**_  
><em>Prisons and the concept of captivity have somewhat evolved with humanity. They started off as horrible, dank things – with rats and human waste and the certainty of a rope with your name on it waiting for you outside. And with humanity at the peek of its intelligence in 2012 – prisons have become something new and unique. <em>

_They're mind games. _

_Nowadays, good prisons provide the means to let their captives drive themselves mad all by themselves. And there's no one else in the world who knows how to do this like Abstergo. We've got a good ethos when it comes to psychological terror. _

_First, you have to consider the lighting – and any good employee knows that white's the way to go. A bright, harsh white that stuns your prisoner everywhere they look – and in those brief few seconds when the mind is dazed, the tiny vessels behind the wide eyes provide the shadows that aren't there. The brain makes them into any shape they fancy. Give it a week or so, and your prisoner will start to see things that aren't there. _

_But what should the prison be made of? Well that's easy – glass. The prisoner can see out into the world they won't be stepping into anytime soon, and get that wonderful feeling of being trapped by invisible forces. The sure way to madness and to loose tongues and wills. So what do we have so far? A glass box in a white room. Perfect. Oh, and don't forget to install a door at the end, locked with a pass code and a guard standing in front of it with maybe a pistol. Just that, you say? One measly guard and once guessable pass code? You forget where you are – you're in Abstergo! And its quality over quantity here. No – the prisoner knows that we don't need anything more than a pass code and a guard. They know that if they set a foot out of their little glass box, all forces of a modern hell will be on them in an instant, and death'll be a mercy. Now that's the Abstergo treatment. Now, don't forget the finishing touches of the black prisoner's uniform, simple sanitary means and a nice cot with one pillow and a blanket, and the mind will do the rest. _

_Congratulations! You have an Abstergo quality prison!_

**ONWARDS FRIENDS, TO THE LAST ONE! **


	7. Chapter Four Phase Three

**Oh hell guys, I'm so sorry about this. But I had to get this up somehow, and it looks like it's worked. *Fingers crossed* I'd also like to apologise with the whole unbeta'dness - Kiarra-Chan's off round Europe, and SchmEthan and I are up to our eyeballs in exams (Him more so than me, I'm just spending my time having mental breakdowns about them) So here we are! Thanks a bunch for bearing with me! :D**

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><p><strong><em>What if I wanted to break? Laugh it all off in your face -<br>What would you do?  
><em>**_30 Seconds To Mars - The Kill_

The guys who'd built the prison in TORCHWOOD 6.2 had followed the instructions to the letter. Harsh white light. Glass box with one cot, one pillow and one blanket and the basic sanitary requirements. A guard with a pistol standing outside the door with one pass code and a prisoner in the Abstergo prisoner's black uniform.

The perfect mind game.

And it was slowing getting to its occupant, grating on her sanity like her teeth did against each other. How long had she been in here now? God knows how long. It was becoming more and more difficult to define one day from the next – all her hours were either spent sleeping or sitting on her cot watching the security guard at the end stare back at her, with the pistol on his belt. Although he couldn't tell if he was staring back at her, really, what with the sunglasses.

She worked at Abstergo before. She knew its tricks. She knew what it was trying to do with her mind. She wouldn't let it.

But it was slowly, ever so slowly, getting to her. She was frustrated at herself. And she knew that if it kept getting to her for too long, she'd end up fighting herself, which would do no good at all.

She didn't know that she'd began to rock very slightly, and that she was biting on her lip so hard she was near to drawing blood. She just didn't feel the pain.

This was Lucy Stillman in 2012.

There was activity outside her prison. Her head snapped up as the guard stepped smartly aside as the door opened inwards. He saluted smartly as a small group filed inside the room. She recognised two members. That nervous looking one, that was that McDonald asshole. He'd personally escorted her to her prison and shown her every nook and cranny with a look that was so full itself that she'd just wanted to rip his face off. She didn't recognise the two guys in front of him in big black suits, they looked like your average body guards, but the man in front had a strange effect on Lucy. If she wasn't behind solid glass and had just a few seconds to spare, she would've torn him apart. Literally. With her bare hands. She entertained an image of flinging his heart across the room, and had to hold down a surge of spite as he nodded at the saluting guard and moved towards her glass box with a very diplomatic look about him.

'_Miss Stillman.'_ His voice sounded somewhat artificial through the speaker in the corner of her box. There must be a microphone outside or something. So there was probably one in the box, too.

They'd elaborated somewhat on what the handbook said, it seemed.

'Vidic.' Lucy said, but her voice came out in a strange croak as her vocal cords stirred themselves into life again. She couldn't remember the last time she spoke. She'd screamed for the first few days she'd been in her box, but after that? Nothing. 'What do you want?'

'_Nothing special. Just your cooperation.' _

'Fuck you.'

If Vidic was surprised at her choice of language, he didn't show it. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked slightly on his heels, watching her through the glass with a slightly bored expression. It agitated Lucy beyond belief, and to her disgust, her hands began to twitch.

'_Is our little box getting to you?' _

Lucy chose not to answer that one.

'_Don't worry. You won't be in there much longer, I can assure you.'_

She couldn't help it, but her eyes fixed on Vidic like an eagle on a mouse. He noted it, and he raised his eyebrows. _'Of course, that'll be if you cooperate with us. If you don't, then you'll be stuck in here for a little while longer. In these four glass walls - where no one can touch you. And you can't touch anyone.' _Lucy's narrowed eyes followed him as he leant against the glass, looking in with a smug expression and raising one hand to tap against the surface with his knuckle.

_Taptaptaptap. _

Lucy physically flinched at the noise. Vidic grinned. _Taptaptaptap. _

She turned her head away from him and glared at the wall. But she could still see him out of the corner of her eye, only slightly blurred.

But she could still hear the tapping.

_Taptaptaptap._

Don't listen.

_Taptaptaptap._

It's all in your head.

_Taptaptaptap._

You don't have to do what he wants you to do. You're your own person. Remember that.

_Taptaptaptap._

But if I do what he wants, will the noise go away?

_Taptaptaptap._

Its worth knowing. Just knowing. You don't have to do anything.

_Taptaptaptap._

'What do you want me to do?' Lucy forced the words out in a growl.

'_There's my Lucy.' _Vidic said happily, and he stepped away from the glass. Lucy just glared. _'What we want you to do is make a phone call.' _

Lucy was genuinely surprised. 'A phone call? That's it?'

'_Absolutely.' _

'And then I get out of here?'

Vidic turned back to look at the guard, who tilted his head in a response whose meaning was lost on Lucy. Meanwhile, McDonald looked slightly miffed that he hadn't been included in this little bout of secret communication, and looked as though he was about to say something when Vidic turned to Lucy again.

'_It will be something we'll discuss.' _He said. McDonald retreated, looking rather put out. No one even spared him a glance.

Lucy was torn for a moment. She _knew _Vidic, and she _knew _that he wasn't to be trusted, but she felt herself weakening. One phone call. One harmless phone call. She wouldn't be helping them _that _much, would she?

There had to be a catch! And her mind found it, and it was hard to keep her triumph to herself. 'And who would I be calling?'

Vidic didn't even pause when he made a response. _'No one of great importance. Just a man who we'd like to talk to.' _Vidic motioned to someone behind him, and one of the bodyguards stepped forward to the glass prison. As he did so, he pulled out an average looking mobile phone, and a tiny key Lucy recognised as copy of one that opened the slot her meals came through. When it was unlocked, the mobile was flung in, and it slid across the glass and stopped at her feet. The only noise in the room was the slot being locked again. _'You'll find the number in the contacts. It's the only one.' _Vidic prompted as Lucy bent to pick it up. The screen came to life under her fingertips, and she immediately went to the contacts on the phone.

There was one number, just like Vidic had said.

But it was the one thing in the world that Lucy feared the most.

'No.' She whispered. Her hands started shaking. 'No, not him. Not ever. Screw your call.' The phone slipped from her limp fingertips, and hit the floor. It wasn't too long a distance, and even though it produced a clatter that made Lucy start, it was only the plastic that cracked. 'No.' She said again.

'_No?' _

'Never.'

'_Well, that's too bad.' _Vidic sighed. _'You can stay down here then. You're a big girl now – you'll be just fine. Just leave Subject Seventeen to us.' _Vidic turned away just as Lucy's eyes went wide. _'Come on boys. Back to the limo.' _

As the group began to file out the door, Lucy propelled herself off the bed. 'WAIT!' She cried, pounding on the glass. 'Come back, _please_!'

Vidic stopped in the doorway, and turned back. _'Have you changed your mind, Miss Stillman?' _

'What did you say about Desmond?'

Her throat constricted after she said his name. Her heart thudded uselessly. She'd do anything.

Vidic turned back, and walked back into the room. He walked up to the glass, and looked in at Lucy.

'_Do you know how long you've been in here?' _

He took Lucy's petrified silence as a sign that she didn't know.

'_Two months, Miss Stillman. And that's how long Subject Seventeen has been in the Animus.' _

Lucy moaned as her heart broke. She found herself moving downwards until she was on her knees, one palm pressed up against the glass.

Two weeks. What was left of him?

'_And I do believe it was three months that we left Subject Sixteen in the Animus before he went gaga, wasn't it? Yes, I think it was.'_

Lucy's shoulders began to shake. Vidic bent down to her level, and stared at her through the glass.

'_If you make that call now, Miss Stillman, I'll get him out of there by tomorrow morning. Give him some recovery time before he goes back in. But if you still persist in not complying with us, we'll keep him in there for much longer. So much longer. He'll be brain dead by the time we pull him out. So you either make the call, or you kill Subject Seventeen.' _He hissed.

Lucy looked up at him. Those _bastards. _They knew she wouldn't make the call, so they threatened Desmond's life. She couldn't say no. Never. And how did she even know they were telling the truth? They could leave him to rot in there, and they wouldn't care past their paycheques.

But what if they were?

Those bastards.

She stared at the phone. Tears clouded her eyes as she found the number and hit the dial button.

'_There's a good girl.' _Vidic said as the dial tone beeped in her ear.

**Oh, and by the way, who's seen the trailers for Revelations? OH MY GOD NOVEMBER CAN'T COME QUICKLY ENOUGH! ^^! Oh, and does anyone fancy a couple of games on ACB multiplayer? :D My XBOX Live is IfEaRnOfIsHh (It wouldn't accept it as it was, so I shoved an extra h on the end) If you wanna' add me, send me a message saying you're from ff. net (I don't accept anyone who I don't know/don't wish to know D: ) And we'll play some sweet murder together! :3  
>Thanks for sticking with me through all the technical difficulties, and please review! :D *Less than three* <strong>


	8. Chapter Five

**Guess what. Gwan, guess. That's right - exams are OVER for me, and I'm free do what I like. And what do I like doing? Updating, of course! :D So here's chapter five for you, chapter six is written but needs some beta'ing, so that'll be coming as soon as. ALSO, expect more chapter phases like the last one in the future, some of my chapters are so long that your eyes'll hurt reading them and they'll be impossible to beta as they are, but I plan to get all phases up in one night. (Except for chapter ten. You'll see. *Smirk*)  
>Enjoy! :D<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Said, oh my god, the devil's in the detail,<br>No, Lord, I just didn't look there,  
>We looked so long, we looked so hard,<br>We looked so hard and for so long.  
><strong>The Hoosiers - The Devil's In The Detail_

**_Time Is Relative_**

The phone gave a final little ting as the Doctor lifted the receiver. He pressed it to his ear, and frowned. 'Who is this?'

There was silence on the end of the phone – and then the clear sound of a woman sobbing filtered through. _'Doctor?' _

'Who's calling?' The Doctor demanded. Rory and Amy's eyes slid to each other, and back to the Doctor again.

'_I don't know if you'll remember me…'_

'Well, if I know who's calling, then I might.'

Silence came from the woman as something faint but harsh made a noise somewhere around her, and she spoke again.

'_They say that all will be revealed in time,' s_he managed. _'Doctor, I'm so sorry…' _Her sobs refreshed.

More harsh sound. The woman sucked in a breath.

'_Vidic sends his best.' _

The change in the Doctor was visible in an instant. His back straightened, and his eyes narrowed.

'Doctor?' Amy prompted. 'Who is it?'

'Abstergo,' he said in quite a level tone of voice, before taking the receiver from his ear, and reaching over to turn the dial wheel on the phone with one long finger. With it turned to eight, he laid the receiver on the console.

'_I'm sorry,' t_he sobbing woman's voice echoed through the TARDIS. Both Amy and Rory started slightly, while the Doctor grasped the console with both hands and leant forward, quite obviously agitated.

'What do Abstergo want?' The Doctor asked her. There was more harsh noise.

'_They say that what they want is based on what you want, Doctor,' _the woman murmured.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Amy demanded.

'It means, Pond – ' The Doctor said quietly. 'That things are about to take a darker twist.'

More harsh noise. The woman began to sob again. _'Do you want me to die?' _she asked, hoping it was rhetorical. The Doctor stared at nothing while Amy and Rory watched him warily. 'They can hear what I'm saying – am I correct?'

The woman struggled to compose herself. She took in a shaky breath. _'Yeah.' _

'That's low, Vidic. Where'd your standards go? It used to be about the psychological mind games with you – and now you're like _'__ooh, look at me, I've got a hostage, aren't I scary?'_' The Doctor challenged, raising his voice. 'Come on Vidic! I want a bit more _oomph!_'

There was silence.

'Well?' The Doctor prompted, his eyebrows flying up into his hairline.

'_I tell you Doctor, the trains in London are ridiculous.' _

The new voice on the end of the phone was different. It was American, and it sounded a bit like perfect, worn out gold. Both the humans stepped away from the console seemingly of their own accord, knowing full well that all that glitters is not gold.

Sometimes what glitters is the gleam of the metal in a trap.

'What do you mean, Vidic?' The Doctor asked quietly, beginning to back away from the phone and appeared to be circling it. 'I haven't got time for riddles – I'm a very busy man.'

The voice laughed. The humans' hearts felt kind of hollow at the sound of it. _'I'm sure you are, Doctor. I'm not giving you a riddle, I'm giving you a fact. The trains are always late. I'm sure you know that.' _

'I'm still not sure what you're getting at.'

'_Oh Doctor, you're not making this any fun at all. Do I really have to spell it out for you?' _

'Well, I don't like to admit it, but yes you do.'

The voice sighed. _'You really don't remember her? Was she __**that **__unimportant to you? Doctor Doctor Doctor,' _the voice tittered. _'Abandoning people like this is becoming such a terrible habit.'_

Amy and Rory looked at each other very briefly, the same thought in their heads.

A habit. Hell.

The Doctor remained silent.

'_The 5__th__ of March, 2010. London underground, Westminster. There was no one in the station, except a girl with her laptop.' _

The Doctor stared blankly, before a long winded sigh of shock and realisation slipped from his lungs.

'_Lucy_.'

_'And bingo was her name-o.'_

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><p><strong>Can we have a guy in a long brown coat to stage for chapter six please? And can we get him in converse please? Yes, thank you.<strong>

**:3**

**REVIEW! :D *Less than three***


	9. Chapter Six

**So who wants a super quick update? You do? WELL HERE YOU GO! :D Beta'd of course by the wonderful SchmEthan, who has now buggered off on a camping trip, so no updates 'till Tuesday unless I ask Kiarra-Chan really nicely :3 ALSO: When I said chapter ten in the last notes yesterday I of course meant chpater twelve. Do excuse me. D:  
>Anywho, here it is! Enjoy! :D<br>**

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><p><strong><em>Truth be told, the truth be told, I worry about the future holds, the future holds...<br>_**_The Hoosiers - Worried About Ray_

_5__th__ of March, 2010. Westminster, England. _

'_The train for Westminster to Canterbury has been delayed due to an anomaly on the tracks. We apologise for the inconvenience, and hope to resume normal services as soon as possible.' _

Lucy Stillman didn't wait for the speaker to click off to let out a groan of dismay. She'd be late. England's best Abstergo agents would be waiting in a meeting room and she'd be _late_…

'Shit,' she summarised perfectly, and reached down by her feet for her laptop bag. She pulled out the computer, sat it on her lap and lifted the 'd best send an email off to Vidic before she was blamed. They couldn't do much to her if she was, she knew – she was far too valuable, but still, the consequences would be severe.

Jesus. How long would she have to keep up this Abstergo act? Any information with any value had been relayed back to the Assassins months ago. There was nothing new to find. Surely she was done?

Any communication she got back from the Assassins was all the same. Stay where you are. Keep investigating. Your position is vital to our blah blah blah.

Grimacing in frustration, the screen flickered into life, and the Abstergo logo came into view briefly before she opened up her email. She tapped the touchpad impatiently as the little hourglass obediently flipped itself over and over. Lucy let her eyes wander.

She seemed to be the only one on the platform. It was absolutely silent. It was chilly down there too – Lucy wrapped her coat around herself and huffed. Still, the peace was nice.

The laptop beeped.

_ERROR: No connection. _

'Great. Exactly what I need.' Lucy said, and flicked the screen in growing frustration as she attempted to search for networks. 'Come on!'

_ERROR: No networks found. _

'_Wonderful,_' Lucy hissed at it. 'Come on, you piece of crap. You can do it, you just don't feel like it.'

_ERROR: No networks found._

Lucy swore. Brilliant. Fucking _brilliant_.

'Christ, I hate technology,' she muttered, and went to slam down the lid.

'Now that's not fair.'

Lucy started violently, and looked up sharply – there was a man standing in front of her who wasn't there before. Lucy's suspicions immediately went up on the rise, and her thoughts immediately went to the pepper spray in her pocket. You'd get suspicious as soon as you looked at him. It wasn't that expectant look he had on his face, but it was the way he was dressed. Seriously – converses and a suit? And where'd he get that coat from – Inspector Gadget? And that hair? It looked like he'd stuck a finger in a socket and stood there for a while.

'Excuse me?' She challenged.

'S'not fair to blame your laptop,' the strange man said. 'S'only doing its best.'

Lucy's brain struggled to understand what the hell he was talking about.

'Right,' she managed, and smiled thinly, her eyes sliding over to the stairs. If she ran, would she make it? The laptop could go screw itself for all she cared. Her thoughts went to the pepper spray again.

'I can fix it!'

Lucy looked back to him in surprise – he looked quite eager now, and when he put his hands in his suit pockets and his strange coat went behind his wrists, Lucy couldn't help but notice just how slim he was. And now she thought of it, he really was _quite_ good looking too. She warmed to him.

Slightly.

In a response, she arched an eyebrow. 'Really?'

''Course! I can fix loads of things, me. 'Specially laptops, they're my favourite.' He grinned at her, and Lucy became slightly less wary.

'Its nothing major – it just won't connect.' She explained.

'Nah, that won't be a problem – I can fix that in a jiffy. Sorry about the delay, by the way, s'kinda my fault. I left my spaceship on the track. It's you lot and your GPS; I had to turn that annoying voice off after we nearly hit the moon...' The man winced slightly as he tugged on his earlobe.

Lucy blinked at him. 'Your spaceship?'

'Hmm?' The man looked at her as though she misheard what she'd said. She must have heard him wrong. _Spaceship? The moon? Surely not. _

'Never mind,' she said, shaking her head, and held out the laptop. 'I really appreciate this…'

'Nah, not at all.' The man grinned at her, took the laptop and sat down on the bench beside her. 'Now, what've we got here…' He murmured, and fished a pair of glasses out of his pocket. Lucy watched him as he sat it on his lap and started clicking. 'I'm the Doctor, by the way.'

Lucy frowned. _Odd name…_ She thought. _And what on __**earth **__is he doing? _

The Doctor had shut the lid of the laptop and lifted the whole thing above him, frowning at all the numbers on the base.

'Uhm. The connection probably doesn't go there…' She started as he fished in his pockets again, but stopped as he pulled out a weird silver looking thing with what looked like a blue light on the end. He pointed it at the base, and it buzzed at such an intensity that Lucy started.

She knew what that thing was.

'That's a sonic device.' She murmured.

The Doctor looked at her. 'And how do you know that?' he asked.

He seemed like the kind of guy who couldn't focus on anything for about a minute. Did he have some kind of disorder? Seemed like it. But Lucy knew she had his absolute full attention now – it was the way he was staring at her intently. She squirmed uncomfortably. There was no way in hell that she'd tell him that they were trained to use them at Abstergo.

'Studied science at college,' she lied.

The Doctor stared for a moment longer. 'Hmm,' was all he uttered, and then turned back to the laptop. Lucy sighed a little in relief, before she noticed just what he was doing to her laptop. 'Hey!' she shouted as the Doctor began to prise open the plastic – and he managed it with a surprising amount of strength. 'What the hell are you doing?'

'Oh look at _that_!' The Doctor said gleefully as mounds of wires spilled out of the laptop. How had he known those were in there? The guys at Abstergo made _sure _that the laptops seemed as average as possible -

'Look at all this!' He exclaimed, setting the laptop down on his lap again, and began pulling out the wires. 'What've we got here...infrared scanning…super-duper spy ware…audio equipment and the _webcam_! Cor, it can go round 360 degees! This stuff is _immense_!' Lucy stared, stunned that he could tell that much from looking at a bunch of coloured wires. 'Humans aren't meant to have technology pulled together like this for another twenty years – so the question is, what're _you _doing with it, Lucy Stillman?'

'I – how do you know my name?' Lucy breathed.

'A bit of detective work. You work at Abstergo industries, which is actually a front for a Templar operation, but you're _actually_ an Assassin infiltrating from the inside, which is quite admirable, doing that all by yourself with no back up team. But you're frustrated that you've been kicking around there so long with no new information and no new leads. You were almost silenced by the company a few months ago when you nearly spoke out about the Animus Project but a man called Warren Vidic saved you. And I need you to do something for me, Lucy Stillman.'

Lucy just stared at him.

'I've had trouble with Vidic before. He started playing around with technology he didn't understand, and if he'd had carried on with it, the Shadow Proclamation would've hit Earth hard for galactic treason. I had to stop him, but there'll be a time in the future where we'll meet again, and next time it won't be so easy. I need to do this now.'

Lucy struggled to get a response out. He knew _everything_. And how could he know that they were going to meet again in the future? What was he, psychic? How the hell did she know whether he was telling the truth or not? But it seemed so utterly unlikely that it could be true. And if there was a chance to help defeat the Templars, then surely the Creed demanded she take the opportunity…

Jesus.

'O.K.' she managed.

The Doctor's look narrowed. 'Are you sure?'

Lucy nodded.

'Alright. Give me a pen.'

Lucy stirred herself into action, and rummaged in the pockets of her coats for a brio. It wasn't anything special – just slightly cracked at the top from where she'd chewed it. The Doctor took it, and then put it in his pocket.

Lucy looked expectant. The Doctor looked puzzled.

'That's it.' He said.

'What?'

'I needed your pen.'

'You're kidding.'

'Nope.'

'A big speech about my life and the future and all you wanted was my pen?'

'Yup.' The Doctor popped the "p", grinned, but frowned when all he got in return was a glare. 'What?' He looked around him, and then he realised. 'Oh, your _laptop!_ Gimme' a sec – ' He pulled it back onto his lap, and with a flurry of fingers, had all the wires back inside of it. Placing the piece of plastic he'd pried off between his teeth, he held the laptop with one hand and fished for his sonic device again, and upon pulling it out, he took the piece of plastic, rammed it onto the laptop, ran the device around it and handed the whole thing back to Lucy.

'There you go. Good as new.' He grinned, taking off the glasses and putting the device back in his pocket. Lucy took the laptop.

'…Thanks.' She said finally.

'No problem. OH!' Lucy started as he reached over, took her firmly by the shoulders, and stared right into her eyes.

She couldn't look away.

'9. 6. 7. 4. 2.' The Doctor said. 'Remember those numbers.'

He stood up abruptly and walked away, his coat billowing out behind him as he made his way up the stairs and out of the train station.

Lucy sat back against the bench, ever so slightly stunned. She stayed like that until ten minutes later, when her train pulled up at the platform and a strange noise echoed down the tracks – as though something otherworldly were leaving.

_Time is Relative _

The Doctor stared into space as the memory slammed into him. All the memories from his previous persona had just been…forgotten. He'd known Vidic and Abstergo to be a fact – but all these details had just melted into nothing with all the regeneration energy.

_He knew he'd meet Vidic again. He'd known he needed Lucy. _

_But why?_

'_Are we having a trip down memory lane, Doctor?' _Vidic's voice said. The Doctor laced his hands together and raised them to his mouth. His eyes flickered upwards.

'You don't know what game you're playing, Vidic.'

'_Oh I do. And here're the rules. If you're not at TORCHWOOD 6.2 in the next hour, then we silence Lucy Stillman. For good. Your move, Doctor.' _

There was a click, and all that could be heard was the dial tone ringing out in the TARDIS.

Like the sound on a monitor when a heart stops.

_12__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland._

_'Well done Lucy!' _Vidic congratulated the woman in the glass box as he clicked off from the call from his ear piece. He approached the prison again just as Lucy hung up her phone. _'You keep that, we'll be needing it again. Don't think you can call anyone on it though, I'll have our people turn off the signal in this room.' _

Lucy didn't look up. 'Just let Desmond out. Please.'

'_We'll think about it. Ciao for now,' _Vidic said pleasantly, and motioned for his group to follow him out. As the guard shut the door behind them, McDonald caught up with Vidic.

'Uhm. Sir?'

'What?'

'Are we really going to let Miles out?'

'Do you take me as stupid, McDonald?'

'No. Sir.'

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><p><strong>Well, I just love where this is going. I've just finished chapter fourteen and I must say, this has to be the thing I've enjoyed writing the most since The Science of Magic (For my new readers, my WhoPotter crossover and my first ever fic) Can't wait to finish the whole thing and get it all up here! :D Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, and please review! :D *LESS THAN THREE***


	10. Chapter Seven

**YAY FOR LEONARDO WE ALL LOVE LEONARDO HE'S THE BEST :D I got so many hugs when I cosplayed as him at London expo last month! HUGS ARE THE BEST BUT NOT AS GOOD AS LEONARDO YAY LEONARDO :D  
>*Ahem*<br>ANYWAY. Its a short one, but enjoy! :D And let's all lol at SchmEthan 'cuz he's fun to lol at.**

**QUICK TRANSLATION: _Il mio__amico - _**_my friend_

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><p><strong><em>Break me down and build me up again -<br>I can take it.  
><em>**_I Fight Dragons - Welcome To The Breakdown_**_  
><em>**

_March 16__th__, 1500. Rome._

The sky had brightened up over _Roma_, and it was a pleasant view on the hillside. The cries of stall holders on the side of the countrys roads rose up into the sky, and behind Ezio, the bustle of _Roma _and its people were quietly synchronising with his own heart beat.

Such a beautiful place. But corrupt with the blackest of hearts. The mere thought of the Borgia made frustration rise up in Ezio and his wrist itch to flick out his blade and stab something. _Dio _knew what, but _something_. He leant forward, rested his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together and stared out at the ruins a little way away down the hill to distract himself. But it was hard to. But as La Volpe said, the Apple was nearly in their reach.

Nearly wasn't good enough though.

He rubbed a hand over his face, and pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes. The burden of age was quickly becoming a hard one to bear.

He noticed someone sit down on the bench next to him. Knowing not to react, he didn't look around, but took the fingers from his eyes and looked out again.

'Leonardo,' he murmured.

'Ezio,' the other man greeted him. A moment of silence went between the two men. It was awkward and frustrating how Ezio couldn't get to his feet and greet his oldest friend like he should – with a hearty embrace and a clap on the back. But they couldn't. With Leonardo under the Borgia's control, it was vital that no one recognised the friendship between them both – it could mean disaster if anyone did. And so they sat on the bench as strangers.

As Leonardo shifted on the bench next to him, that feeling that had bothered Ezio earlier rose up in him again – like every particle in his very being was turning on one another. He rolled his shoulders, cleared his throat, and the feeling diminished somehow. Feeling lighter, he shifted position so he could talk more freely.

'You have a Codex weapon for me?' he murmured, turning his head only very slightly.

'Indeed,' Leonardo said so quietly that it was hard to hear him. 'Another blade for you. Should make things a whole lot easier.'

'Like you wouldn't believe,' Ezio agreed, smiling quietly. He couldn't see his face, but he was sure Leonardo was smiling too. But when Leonardo shifted to retrieve the weapon, a sudden pain slammed into Ezio, like a bullet had gone through his brain. It was far worse than the discomfort he'd had before.

'_Merda!'_ he swore aloud, his hand flying to his forehead as though he could keep the pain inside his head and stop it spilling out around his body. He barely registered Leonardo's start and the hand that went carefully to his shoulder.

'Ezio? Are you alright?' Leonardo murmured, but the sound of his voice was an absurd blare in Ezio's ears. He physically winced as another wave of pain attacked his head. His teeth ground together as he battled the pain away.

'I'm fine,' he managed, pushing the pain down like he'd learnt to over the years until it just became a bothersome feeling. With some difficulty, he straightened up again and forced his hands in front of him. 'I'm fine,' he repeated, and smiled at Leonardo. Leonardo, seemingly convinced, squeezed Ezio's shoulder briefly before looking back over the ruins as though nothing had happened.

Ezio joined him, his head still throbbing. Being ill was the last thing he needed. He had to remain strong for the Brotherhood, but with every passing day of plotting and running around on the god-forsaken rooftops, it was becoming more and more difficult. These bothersome headaches would have to wait. He had more important things to think about.

There was the click of metal against wood, and Ezio looked down to the space beside him – a brace lay there, plain in design, but when he took it and turned it in his hands, he was pleased to see the blade hidden there with its flawless mechanism.

'Leonardo, I cannot thank you enough.' Ezio murmured as he strapped it onto his left wrist.

'It was nothing.' Leonardo replied, dismissing the compliment with a wave of his hand. 'Ezio, are you _sure _you're alright?'

'I'm perfectly fine.'

'It's only that you're looking so... _old_.'

Ezio froze in tying the last strap for a moment while his brain processed the word, and then finished off the knot expertly. 'I'm just tired.'

'You need rest, my friend. I can see the shadows under your eyes; your weary step. Any machine needs rest, otherwise the cogs wear out. We're just the same, _il mio__amico_. Promise me you are resting!'

Ezio stretched out his arm. It was good to wear two braces again. 'I sleep whenever I get the chance. I am so close to getting that Apple now. I promise I will rest after.' He murmured.

As he looked back at the ruins, he felt Leonardo squirm beside him. 'Alright,' he murmured. He watched Ezio as he stood up. 'You're leaving?'

'_Sì,_' Ezio muttered. His hand went slowly to his head again as another overwhelming wave of pain hit him. 'Machiavelli wishes to see me – he has new information about Borgia activity he wishes to discuss.' He grimaced again, forcing the pain back down as he turned back to Leonardo. 'Thank you again, _il mio__amico_.'

'As I say, it was nothing.' Leonardo sent a cautious look behind him, and offered a hand. 'Be careful, Ezio.' His eyebrows flew into the bottom of his trademark red hat, and his eyes were wide with concern.

Ezio quickly grasped his friend's hand. 'I promise,' he smiled down at him. In times like these, it was nice to have someone who cared.

Ezio turned and walked to the cliff edge. A hay cart had been left there. Perfect – it saved the walk. With a slight push from his toes, he was up in the air – arms thrown wide and the wind in his face and it was that moment of limitless freedom that reminded Ezio for a split second that this, _this _was the reason why he should keep fighting the Borgia and the Templars – for these moments of beautiful freedom, when all had the ability to think what they wanted and love their neighbours freely.

And then he hit the hay, and all thoughts besides one- that hay really found its way into uncomfortable places sometimes- were forgotten.

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><p><strong>"AH MY LEG! OH GOD MY LEG!"<br>:3  
>LOVE YOU LONG TIME - and I'll give you the IfEaRnOfIsH special if you review ;)<strong>


	11. Chapter Eight

**YAY CHAPTER EIGHT! :D I have another chapter to post tonight too, aren't you lucky! :D OH, and chapter ten is where everything unfolds. Promise. ;D  
>And of course thanks to SchmEthan for his beta'ing, and reminding me that there can still be happy in this most difficult time of my life right now.<br>Enjoy! :D**

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><p><em>13th of April, 2012. Scotland.<em>

Have you ever sat and watched an ant's nest? If you haven't, do; it's frightfully engaging. Try and keep track of one ant amongst its swarming brethren, and it's not too long before you loose sight of it, is it?

Take the metaphor and apply it to the one thousand Abstergo employees who were screamed at by their superiors to haul ass down to the hub. A hundred computer workers filtered out from their bedrooms that were really no more than cubicles and were cramming themselves down a corridor. A very small and very narrow corridor. And in amongst the swarm was one worker who looked slightly battered and with a glistening bracelet around her wrist. She was bright enough to realise that the time for escape was now. She'd been marched up the corridor by guards occasionally, and she'd noticed a small side door leading off somewhere. The workers were converging past it, and she'd have to think quickly.

Rebecca Crane wasn't a fully trained Assassin – the Brotherhood hadn't needed her to be, they just needed her to be good at computers. But they gave her the basic training so that she could be quick on her toes – and now was that time as she was crushed between two gorilla-like gentlemen. She bit back the foul language that threatened to spill out, and got thinking. They were the big bruiser type – and quite ginger. Scotsmen through and through.

Hmmm.

She made herself scarce, and the group of workers surged on – and, quite suddenly, the Scotsman on the right suddenly felt a very sharp tug on his belt. Before he had time to comprehend it, he was toppling into the Scotsman on the left, who threw up his hands on an impulse.

'Watch it!' he said as he pushed the huge hulk of a man away. And the hulk of a man came to a quick conclusion.

'You grabbed my belt, you poof!'

'You what?'

'You grabbed my belt! Been eying me up, have 'ya?'

'Fuck off!'

And with that, a big fist connected with the other Scotsman's jaw with an audible crack. He staggered backwards, and with the blood of ancestors roaring within him, swung another punch, and dived on the other man when it connected. Cries rose up from the dismayed workers as the two men pulled each other to the ground, and everyone was too busy either watching the fight or trying to sidle past it to notice the door at the side open and close in the space of a second.

With all the workers outside the nest, no one knew what was going on inside, and that left Shaun all the time he needed. He'd smashed his way into the cabinet in McDonald's office, found the toolbox that the arsehole had apparently thought his office should have, and set to work after clearing the desk of its computer and other valuable contents with one slightly spiteful sweep of an arm. The said computer sparked sadly to itself on the floor as Shaun focused on his project – the deadline for which was any second now.

With his wrist facing upwards on the desk so his manacle gleamed up at him, Shaun delicately placed the object that he'd spirited away from McDonald's computer when McDonald was too drunk to notice him with a pair of pliers on the thin strip of glowing plastic. It was a computer chip – and it had the master code for every electronic device in TORCHWOOD 6.2. Except for the Animus – that and Desmond were on a whole different kind of network. Moving carefully, Shaun put the pliers in his mouth and bit down on them to keep them in place as he reached for the soldering gun that he'd left plugged in for a minutes, the lead only just reaching the edge of the table, and he froze when footsteps pounded outside the door. His heart leapt in his mouth when they grew closer, but when they started fading it was an effort to kick start himself again. He snatched the soldering gun and gently applied it to the chip.

'_Please_...' he murmured to himself. 'Oh God, _please_...'

Sometimes, prayers are answered. There was a spark, and the manacle snapped open, its glow fading. '_Yes!_' Throwing the soldering gun aside and not giving a toss about where it landed, he rubbed his wrist where the skin was clammy after months of wearing that wretched thing and began to form a rough agenda in his head.

_Find Rebecca. Get out. _It sounded good – and Shaun threw open the door to McDonald's office and legged it down the blinding white corridor.

Fate has a really funny way of doing things. Rebecca Crane was dashing down a corridor with no idea where she was going, but Fate had simply decided that it was a corridor that led on to a corridor where the Boss's office was located. Fate had also decided that Shaun should leg it left instead of right. The reasons why were unclear, but the result was this – Shaun and Rebecca collided into each other at a hundred miles an hour as they both turned the same corner, and Fate – satisfied – left them to it.

'_Rebecca!_'

'_Shaun! _What happened – are you alright!'

'Am _I _alright! What about you the other day! Rebecca, I'm so sorry – '

'I'm fine – shit, your glasses! We gotta' get out of here!' She'd reached up to touch Shaun's glasses and her fingers had brushed his skin – and Shaun grabbed her hand in the hope she wouldn't notice the blush rising to his face.

They stared at each other.

'It's so good to see you,' Shaun said, without realising he'd said it until the last word reached his ears. It was true though – even though the sight of her black eye and torn lip was enough to make him want to rip the throats out of the bastards who'd done that to her, it was just _so _good to see her again – to touch her. His heart had really needed the kick start it was getting then.

'You too,' she said, and she smiled back at him. He found himself grinning stupidly, and he laced his fingers with hers.

'Come on,' he said, and turned away to run up the corridor, holding the hand of a girl he'd fancied for a while and out of this place to _freedom_. _We'll find the Assassins here_, Shaun thought, _and we'll rescue Desmond and Lucy, and we'll contact TORCHWOOD and they'll take care of everything. We'll be just – _

'Why hello there!'

Shaun's heart stopped all over again. His eyes travelled from face to face. Two huge body guards. The leering weasel face of McDonald. And in front, the quisitive little smile of Warren Vidic. Shaun's face went steely, and he gripped Rebecca's hand tighter. He was of the opinion that Rebecca wasn't scared of anything until he felt her squeeze his hand twice as harder.

Vidic's smile widened into a grin.

'So glad you could join us.'

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><p><strong>Aw man. D: MUCH LOVE. <strong>


	12. Chapter Nine

**We all like a bit of Doctor in the small hours of the morning. ;D**

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><p><em><span>Time is Relative. <span>_

As the dial tone rang out in the TARDIS, the two humans, along with the wisest being in the universe, stood still. They were at a loss of what to do.

Well, the humans were.

'Doctor...' Amy said in a voice that suggested only the darkest things. 'What are you doing - !'

She was interrupted by the TARDIS lurching into action at the pull of a lever, and toppled into Rory as the Doctor began his dance around the console. Side step _pull_, side step _twirl_, hop kick _tweak_, a flourish of a smack of a button, and repeat.

'What're we doing, Pond! We're going on a rescue mission, that's what!'

'Do you even know this Lucy girl!' Amy demanded as she pulled herself away from Rory, who she'd knocked to the floor in the sudden lurch – and he whimpered as he realised that the chance for a quick grope slipped him by.

'Yes! Well, no. Maybe! Possibly. Probably. Technically,' The Doctor rambled, seizing hold of the handles on the screen and swinging himself round the console as its middle pounded away furiously. Rory, only having just managed to find his feet again was thrown into the railings around the console as the whole TARDIS swung to the left. Amy followed after at a dangerous speed. 'I _knew_ what was going to happen, and I _knew_ that Lucy's important! But all that regeneration energy's scrambled my memories and time's going kablooy. If I knew what's going on in the future, then its probably best if we unkablooy it before we all die!' The console sparked. 'Stop that!' The Doctor shouted, and hit it with a hammer. Something dinged in response.

'So what're we going to do?' Rory shouted back.

'We're going to pay a visit to TORCHWOOD and Abstergo!'

'You _what! _That – that Vidic man seemed pretty dangerous! And what the hell is Abstergo?'

'You heard of the Templars?'

'...No?'

'I'll explain later then!' Something went fizzbang, and the TARDIS seemed to revert to the attitude a salt pot might have and shook its passengers from side to side. Amy screamed and smashed into Rory again, who both fell into the floor while the Doctor barely hung on to the edge of the console by his fingertips and then and then and _then _–

Everything went calm.

'Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?' The Doctor asked as the two humans picked themselves up and glared at him. He ran around the console and stared at them, bringing up his hands. 'Right – five minute crash course. Abstergo are the front for the big meanie Templars who want to control the world with some kind of peace brought about by enslaving people, 'coz that's human logic and humans are stupid, right? Vidic's their leader, and he's been dabbling with technologies he doesn't understand for too long now, and something's gone wrong in the future because _I know about it_. My past self found Lucy and _told _her about it. Now why would I do that?'

'Because you're a nutter.'

'Not now, Pond. And we've got nothing to go on and no clue about _anything _so I say we give it a shot, go to Abstergo and see what happens.'

There was a pause. 'So we get a vote?' Rory asked.

'No, we're doing it 'cause I say so.'

'Wait a sec, who're these Assassins?' Amy asked. 'How do they come into it?'

'Ah, interesting question,' The Doctor said. 'They – '

Somewhere on the console, something began to beep. It wasn't a _hey! everything's just fine here! _kind of beep, it was an _urhm, you might like to come check this out... _kind of beep.

Thoroughly distracted, the Doctor approached the console like a worried owner approaches a dog that's making painful noises and holding up a paw.

'Doctor, what is it?' Amy demanded.

'Something's...weird,' The Doctor replied in a murmur, and approached the source of the noise. An orange light blinked on and off with the painful sounding beeps. He cupped his hands over it and pressed his ear to his fingers, as though he could listen to the TARDIS' worry. 'What's the matter old girl?' He murmured.

And then, quite suddenly, there was the horrible noise of something electrical turning itself off with no physical prompting whatsoever. Slowly but surely, the lights all cut out, and the hum of the TARDIS wound down until all the noise that was left was the sound of silence.

The only thing that gave any sign of life was the light that blinked on and off through the Doctor's fingers. It made his hands glow, and his face was lit up eerily.

'Something tells me we've just found TORCHWOOD,' Rory said quietly.

'Or rather, Abstergo just found us,' The Doctor replied.

The orange light went on blinking.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter ten will be up one day soon! :D *LOVE*<strong>


	13. Chapter Ten

**YES. Here at last. Shit's FINALLY about to go down. Enjoy! :D **

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><p><em><span>12<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland._

'Get off me!'

'I'll have to ask you to be quiet.'

'Bite me!'

'_With pleasure..._'

'Don't you dare touch her – !'

Bodyguard One punched Shaun straight in the face. Rebecca screamed and kicked out as Shaun fell heavily on his knees, and was met with a kick in the back. Bodyguard Two gripped her tighter as she nearly wrenched himself out of his grasp, and struggled forward into the basement of TORCHWOOD 6.2. Every TORCHWOOD had a few cells in its basement for any aliens it may come across, but it seemed that one of them would be the home of Shaun and Rebecca, and this was made entirely clear as Bodyguard One seized the limp Shaun by the back of his jumper and dragged him inside. As Bodyguard Two struggled forward with the writhing Rebecca, the Bodyguard One threw Shaun on the ground and bent down to remove the handcuffs from around his wrists. Rebecca kicked behind her when the guard stopped, and her boot landed in Two's shins – she grinned in grim satisfaction as she heard a hiss of pain.

'Hurry it up,' he told his colleague in a grunt as the sound of the handcuffs being unlocked echoed in the dingy cell. 'The bitch keeps kicking me.'

'Fuck you!'

'Not on your life, love.'

'Alright, alright!' Bodyguard One said, placing the handcuffs in his pocket and, in nothing other than a spiteful movement, grabbed Shaun's chin in a hard grip and grinned at him. Shaun moaned.

'Alright there, sunshine? You keep quiet down 'ere, or we'll give your bird a good seeing to,' he sneered, and let go. Shaun's head fell limp on his chest with a quiet moan, and Bodyguard Two came forward with Rebecca. With a swift movement, he had her handcuffs off and was slamming the cell doors as she flew at them.

'Careful there love,' he murmured as he locked the doors. 'Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face.'

'You come near us again and I'll rip yours off, asshole!' Rebecca hissed at him.

'Now now. Don't make us make you regret that.'

'I don't believe you,' she growled, and a finger flew up to point at her black eye. 'See this! McDonald's pussy guards gave me that – they weren't afraid to kick the shit out of a girl – you don't even have the guts.'

The guard glared. He and his colleague were cockney men through and through – and their mams had always raised them to not lay a hand on a lady. He eyed her with his small, piggy eyes, and walked away from the cell without a word.

'Yeah, you keep walking!' Rebecca shouted after them, and as the door to TORCHWOOD 6.2's cells slammed, Rebecca turned and slid down the bars as Shaun raised himself up with shaking arms.

'Don't be a hero again, Shaun,' she murmured, closing her eyes.

Shaun coughed into his hand and looked up at her with a bloody nose. 'You see this, yeah?' he pointed at it. 'This was for you.'

Rebecca's eyes opened. 'And has it got us anywhere?'

Shaun glared at her through his cracked glasses, and conceded she had a point. They would've ended up down here anyway – but he wasn't going to say it out loud. Not to her, anyway.

Rebecca closed her eyes again as Shaun dragged himself up to sit by her.

'Jesus,' she murmured. 'What the hell kind of place are we in?' Her head fell into her hands. Shaun stared at her for a moment, before a gusty and painful sigh slipped from him.

'I don't know.' He said at last. 'I just don't know.'

He deliberated for a moment – and then carefully wrapped an arm over her shoulders. His heart flew up into his mouth when she leant into him, and he almost froze.

Almost.

Very gently, his cheek rested on top of her head.

They stayed like that for a long time.

* * *

><p>The Doctor had flown like a bird straight into their trap, the bait of a rescue and an adventure too much to resist. They'd caught the little blue box in the sky, and as Vidic threw open the doors to the hub and one thousand eyes turned towards him, he quietly congratulated himself on his genius.<p>

Around the space in Scotland, there was a ring of energy, and it had latched on to the TARDIS' immense source of power and was sucking it dry. The ring grew stronger and stronger while the TARIDS grew weaker. The perfect trap – and the flawless prison.

There was only one thing left to do.

Vidic began to walk up the nearest aisle of computers, McDonald dogging his heels like a lost puppy. He folded his hands behind his back as he made his way to the front, where on the screen the trapped box spun uselessly on its axis among the stars. His eyes practically shone when he noticed that he'd be stepping up on a podium. _A podium! _He loved a good podium; it set you above everyone else. Every Abstergo building should invest in one. With everyone still watching him, he began to mount the steps, and took a moment to be vicious. He turned to McDonald, who had gone to follow him up, and lifted a stern finger.

'Stay,' he said. McDonald's mouth stuttered, and then he backed away, realising that he'd been humiliated.

This wasn't his TORCHWOOD anymore. An ache began to grow somewhere in him – guilt and longing. What had he _done_?

Vidic stepped up to the railings and leant on them with a wide stance, his eyes resting on every single individual, making them feel like they _counted_.

Some of humanity are certainly leader material. Vidic was _born _for leadership. The skills that leaders learn had come as a gift to him, and every word was crafted to his advantage every time one slipped past his lips. Everyone flocked to his ideas like moths around the brightest flame.

And it made him dangerous beyond anything you can comprehend.

The magic began to flow.

'Friends! Welcome!' He threw out his arms and gestured to all the workers. 'Before I begin, let me tell you that I admire you one and all for your vital work here at TORCHWOOD. Your efforts have been accounted for, each and every one, and believe me; your reward will be most worthwhile.'

Down the bottom of the ladder, McDonald's spirits perked up again. Perhaps there'd be a chance at a top job after all.

'But that is not what we are here to discuss,' Vidic asserted, taking hold of the rail and looking out. 'As I'm sure you're aware by now, we have achieved everything we have hoped for, and more. We have the TARDIS in our grasp – Time And Relative Dimension In Space! A time machine, and the only one of its kind – and we have the man who it belongs to. And I am _sure _we all know who he is.'

The workers remained silent.

'TORCHWOOD was created by your great monarch to keep that man – the Doctor – and his little blue box from British shores, but now it deals with all alien threat. You are a noble people, and you have been serving a greater purpose by joining Abstergo industries – combining technologies and bringing new opportunities to planet Earth. Without your technology and your efforts, the Doctor would have never slipped so easily – so _effortlessly _into our grasp. But why do we need him? What does he have to do with the Animus project and all we stand for? The time has come now to answer all of the questions that you have been asking for months now.'

Everyone's interest was reasserted when Vidic pulled something that looked like a matted rope from his pocket. He held it up so everyone could see it.

'When our archaeologists combed through the ruins of Rome, looking for traces of the Piece of Eden, they found this.' He lifted it up higher. 'They were clueless about its identity and origin. They took it back to the lab and ran several tests. And do you know what they found?' He paused for effect. 'It's a scarf. An everyday ladies' fashion scarf, purchased from any old high street store you can think of. But the tests said it was over _five hundred years old_. But that isn't the only odd thing about it – there are a mix of different samples of blood – four, to be precise. Two of them are human – none out of the ordinary – but the other two are in a whole different class of their own. Let me explain.' He draped the scarf around his neck, and threw his arms out again as he began to pace the length of the podium. 'When the Doctor first came to Abstergo's attention, he was in our lab, with no apparent reason why or how he got there.' He chuckled. 'Of course, we took the necessary precautions – detained him and took his DNA, but within the hour he had disappeared from our cells – along with most of our best technology. But in his whirlwind of adventure and shiny, glimmering wires, he'd forgotten to destroy the records – and because of that, the third blood sample on the scarf was found to match with his perfectly. But the fourth – well, we needed no records for _that_. All we needed lies in front of you in the Animus. Desmond Miles – Subject Seventeen. The key to our future.'

The lights of the Animus flickered as power raced from every computer to its power source, and behind closed eyes, Desmond's eyes moved as he took in the sights and smells of history, becoming it, living in it.

Drowning in it.

'The fourth sample of DNA was one most familiar,' Vidic said. 'It belonged to Ezio Auditore Da Firenze. And I regret to inform you, ladies and gentlemen, that everything you trust will never be the same again.'

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><p><strong>WELL THEN.<br>Next chapter up tonight. :D *LOVE* **


	14. Chapter Eleven

**I've never written any Nine before, so do excuse me if anything is OOC. Anyway, enjoy! :D**

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><p><em>Time Is Relative<em>

He didn't like to admit it, but the Doctor wasn't feeling all himself. At all. And when something was wrong with him without his permission, it didn't bode well - for him, his companions, his TARDIS, and any galaxies within his immediate radius. It was an effort not to fall over onto the console where the orange light blinked helplessly at him as his vision swam and his head began to thump with excruciating pain. And it felt, somehow, that every tiny, ittybitty timey atom that equalled him when put together were turning against one another – fighting and clawing at each other.

Something was dreadfully wrong.

And ever since being reminded of his brief conversation with Lucy, memories that had drowned in all that energy during his latest regeneration floated to the surface liked bloated corpses. And one in particular stood out among the rest.

Abstergo.

2005.

There was a man in the Animus.

* * *

><p><em><span>Abstergo Headquaters, 2005<span>_

To start off with, it was the quietest room in the world. Its large windows threw light from outside into the room and it's numerous purposes. At the very end of the room was a glass desk with the necessary desk ingredients – a computer, a note pad, a pen and – forgotten rather carelessly – an access key to most of the rooms in the building. Clustered in the corners were lab-like spaces and equipment – the floors there were tiled and microscopes littered the work surfaces, and binders were stacked side by side, bursting with paper. And in the centre of the room – an Animus.

The Animus was left by the Ones Who Came Before. So little is known about them, but their gift to humanity was being manipulated, misused by the Bastards Who're Here Now. There are other Animi out there too – 99% of them in the same building as the one in this room – but another, at this point in time, was being developed under a nurturing, patient and devilishly clever pair of hands, belonging to an Assassin who'd turned that very same pair of hands to computers after a snow boarding accident – and who knew? Coding gave the same adrenaline rush as falling out of a helicopter onto snow in god knows where. It would later be suggested that some kind of glands needed to be checked as a result.

Another story, for another time.

_This _Animus was occupied. Images flickered on the computer accompanying it, on the curved band of glass above the occupant's head as he drowned in the centuries, chasing a woman in man's armour, relived the grief of a man who's family were murdered before his eyes, and followed one glorious shining quest for an Apple.

I regret to disappoint you, but this is another story – for another time.

As has been mentioned before, to start off with – this room was the quietest room in the world.

But then there was a noise – and it sounded like the whole of the universe arriving to one sound conclusion. It was a noise that inspired – and it sounded like a key being dragged across piano strings to create one glorious symphony. While this sound harmonised with time and space, a blue police box faded into the room with its beat. And with a final thud, it materialised completely in one of the lab corners, instantly creating the impression that it'd always been there.

One of its doors opened inwards, and a man in a leather jacket and ears not to be scoffed at strode out, followed by a blonde woman in denim shorts, a shirt that tied around the waist and abnormally large pink sunglasses.

The man was called the Doctor, and the woman was called Rose. And she wasn't impressed.

'This looks _exactly _like a beach,' She stated in a tone that shouldn't be challenged, and the Doctor gave her a look that stated he would.

'Thought we'd take a bit of a detour,' he said, and then looked out into the room with a strange frown. Rose peered at the back of his head over the tops of her sunglasses – this wasn't like him at all. He was out of the door too quick – this was no detour. He couldn't fool her.

'Doctor, what are we doing here?'

'Having a look.'

'No we're not.'

'Yes we are.'

'Doctor, what're you – ' She watched him suddenly start towards the Animus in the middle, already pulling out the screwdriver from his pocket. Rolling her eyes, she stomped towards him in flipflops, and opened her mouth to deliver the grand mal of all tantrums until her eyes fell on the Animus' occupant.

She'd never seen anything quite like him. The dark circles around his closed eyes were startlingly vivid – if his eyes didn't rove restlessly underneath his lids, Rose could have convinced herself that they were make up. The shape of his skull was clear to see through his skin, which was paper thin and as pale as you like, and his lips were cracked with blood.

Rose had adjusted rather quickly to time travel – and she knew they weren't in the future, or the past. This was present – _now_, if you will. (But in a life like hers, it was a loose term) and the horror behind it was stunning.

Rose took her sunglasses off.

'Doctor – '

'I don't know,' The Doctor said, not looking up, his attention held by the poor soul in the Animus. 'I don't know who he is, what this thing is, or where we are. I was told to come here.'

'By who?'

The Doctor looked up at her at last, the faintest of smiles on his lips. 'Let's just say it was a reminder,' he said, and, with the faintest movement, pointed the sonic screwdriver at the Animus and activated it.

The buzzing joined the man's screams – the Doctor swept backwards, keeping Rose behind him as alarms sounded inside the room and outside the doors. The man was struggling to draw breath into the lungs who'd had their breathing done for them, and he clawed at the strip of glass over his head – and, failing that, punched it – it shattered and glass rained down on his face.

Pain. Blood. He knew these feelings, but these were his own. And it was terrifying. As he sat up in the Animus, the alarms screaming at him from all angles, a deep human instinct inside of him he'd forgotten all about cried for someone to hold him. He looked around, and he saw a man and a woman and the compassion in her eyes.

With feet that knew nothing but how to run, he swung himself over the edge of the Animus and set them down on the floor. His arms were already reaching for her as he staggered forward, pleading silently for her to hold him –

Something landed on his back – and administered electric poison that seared in his veins. He screamed and shuddered violently before falling on his face onto the floor, where he didn't move.

The Doctor and Rose looked up with all the wrath of humanity and the universe behind them and saw a group of people. They were mostly made up of body guards – all dressed in a smart and crisp kind of blue with big large guns pointed directly at them – but there was one with grey hair who had an evil genius sort of feel to him holding what looked exactly like a Judoon powered taser.

'Do excuse me,' he said, in a voice that sounded like worn out gold. 'I hope he didn't cause you any bother?'

'_Bother?_' The Doctor repeated, savouring the word, rolling it around his mouth – spitting it right back at him. 'He wanted someone to _hold _him!'

'Mmm. Well, we don't really tolerate that sort of nonsense here,' the man said, and waved a few fingers vaguely at the bodyguards behind him – two of them started forward, seized the limp man by his arms and dragged him from the room, his shaven head lolling limply onto his chest. 'Now with that out of the way, can I ask who you might be – and how you got here? Only our security didn't spot you at all!'

'We're not telling you anything,' Rose spat at him.

'I think you will.' The man sang the last word. 'Now, lets get you both set up in a nice cell, and we'll have a chat about this later, mm?'

* * *

><p>Having been in too many prisons to count, the Doctor knew a good guard when he saw one. But the one who'd dumped him and Rose in their cell for a brief while was obviously new, not much experience and not too bright - he hadn't thought to extend a quick check of their pockets to the ones in the Doctor's jacket – where the Screw driver lived. As the sound of what could surely be the footsteps of the Doctor's escort to an interrogation room, he had nudged the Screw driver into Rose's hand and meaningfully eyed the grate on the ceiling, in easy reach if it so happened that Rose took a fancy to stand on the bench and give the screws that held it in place a thorough inspection. When the guards opened the cell, he jumped to his feet and grinned widely, which threw them off guard for a moment and gave Rose plenty of time to slip the Screw driver into the pockets of her shorts and out of sight, and to glare at the Doctor's back. Some time at the beach was much preferred over crawling her way through a ventilation shaft and following the murmur of voices. She'd almost ended up in a middle of a birthday party the last time. It was awkward – they'd thought she was a stripper taking a more unusual route rather than hiding in a cake.<p>

And now the Doctor sat in an interrogation room, eying the man called Vidic while he asked a question with an awful amount of importance.

'What was his name?'

'We got rid of that a long time ago.'

'_What was his name?_'

Vidic looked at the Doctor long and hard. And the Doctor looked back at him. There was silence in the little room – even the guards at the doors didn't dare to even shift their weight and risk disturbing the atmosphere's attempts to balance the two sources of overwhelming power in the room. The Doctor against the Templars. Universe against religion.

To many, religion is their universe. And to some, the universe is their religion. Two ways of looking at the world. Two beliefs.

Two weapons.

Vidic sat back in his in his chair and studied the Doctor. He was in charge of a whole army, with four guards in the room sworn to his will and said captive was handcuffed to a chair with the key in the pocket of the guard outside the door with a sniper rifle. As far as Vidic was concerned, he was the one with his thumbs in this wonderful little pie he had cooking.

'Whatever his name was, he's forgotten it a long time ago, as have I. I shouldn't worry about it. If you _really _want to call him anything, call him Subject Sixteen.'

'There are more like him?' The Doctor queried.

'Oh, plenty more. And each and every one of them is special.'

'How do you mean, "special"? And if they're so special, why do they end up like him?'

Vidic laughed. 'I thought I was meant to be the one asking the questions here!'

The Doctor glared.

'But it is a good question, I'll admit.' Vidic laced his fingers together and placed them on the table in front of him. 'Where do you hold with religion?'

'Depends what one we're talking about.'

Vidic tapped his fingers on the desk. 'Let's say I'm talking about Christianity. That run of the mill religion. Do you know it?' Vidic's eyebrow lifted slightly, as did the corner of his mouth, but the Doctor didn't react.

'That one, and many others. It's why I had to check for classification.'

'I see. Well, if you know Christianity, then you'll know the story of Adam and Eve. I trust that you do?'

The Doctor didn't react.

'I'll take that as a yes. The devil tempted Eve to take a bite of the Forbidden Fruit – the Apple from the Tree of Knowledge – and for that, she and Adam were cast out of Eden by God.' Vidic leaned forward. 'What if I were to tell you that the Apple were no real fruit, and that every Subject who has passed through these doors are a direct descendant of those first two humans on Earth?'

The Doctor tilted his head. 'I'd be mildly surprised.'

Vidic laughed. 'You do have a way with words, Doctor.' He smiled at the brief frown on the Doctor's face. 'We have spies in TORCHWOOD. We know _all _about you. And it was so kind of you to let us take that blood sample. If I were you, I would've been a bit more careful about where I stumbled into.'

'Really? And where's that then?'

'I'm surprised at you, Doctor. All your time travel and you haven't come across us once. We're an old organisation – one as old as Christianity itself.'

The Doctor took barely second to arrive to the answer. 'Templars.'

'Of course, we're more about the power now, rather than religion. Religion's a rather outdated concept now, don't you think? We know too much about the universe to think that everything was created by a big man in the sky.'

'Sometimes, someone's faith is the one thing they have in the whole world.'

'What's your faith, Doctor?'

'Ask me again in five minutes. I need some time to think about it.'

Vidic shrugged and eyed the clock on the opposite side of the room. 'Alright. Any more questions while we wait?'

'I've got one.' The Doctor tilted his head, and his handcuffs clinked as he shifted slightly on his chair. 'What was that machine Subject Sixteen was in?'

'I'm shocked you didn't ask sooner. That, Doctor, is the Animus. It was a gift, left to us by the race who occupied this planet before the human race came to be. And through it, we can pull apart someone's DNA to the extent where they can relive the memories of their ancestors. It's a thoroughly remarkable piece of technology, and I'm sure you'll comply with us when we invite you to give it a try? Only there's so much about you we'd like to know, Doctor.'

'If you put me in that thing, you'll see things you never even dreamed possible. You'll regret every waking moment of your life.' The Doctor's eyes were cold and hard.

But Vidic grinned.

'And that'll be the fun part of it. Well, Doctor, it's been five minutes, and I haven't forgotten my question – what is your faith?'

'I don't have one – not really, anyway.'

'Oh? It rather seemed to me that you did.'

'Your question was a bit off. You asked if I had a faith, but you didn't ask whether or not it was in something.'

'Ah, very good! In that case – what do you put your faith in?'

It was at that very moment that it came to Vidic's attention that this room had an air ventilation system. It wasn't as though he hadn't known it before, but he'd just become aware of it – mainly because one of the four screws holding up the grate in the ceiling had just fallen down onto the table between him and the Doctor, who was suddenly grinning at him. The guards were already pulling out their guns and aiming them at the ceiling by the time a second screw dropped onto the table, and their fingers had barely twitched over the triggers when the whole thing came down and, with a hiss of a broken pipe, steam filled the room in a big humid cloud. Vidic staggered backwards, knocking his chair over, and screamed through hacking coughs at his guards to do something, who were all bumbling around in the smoke.

'You alright down there, Doctor!' someone shouted, and Vidic would've howled in dismay if it wasn't for all the blasted steam.

'I put my faith in Rose!' The Doctor crowed triumphantly, before there was the sound of flipflops hitting the floor, a buzz of something sonic, and the door slamming on them all.

'GET THEM!' Vidic screamed at the guards, shoving them all out of the way as he threw the door open again. 'KILL THEM! SHOOT THEM DEAD!' They poured out into the corridor, and were bolting up it when they heard the noise of the universe echoing in Abstergo's Headquarters – which sounded remarkably like the sound of a key on the piano strings and all that is good in this world, leaving us for a time.

* * *

><p><em>Time Is Relative<em>

He'd _known! _

The Doctor found himself moaning as the memory faded. They hadn't stumbled into Abstergo by accident – he'd known where they were going – for crying out loud; for once in his life he'd had a _purpose! _He he'd known how to activate the Animus – he'd known Vidic, he'd known Abstergo, he'd known _everything! _How did he forget? How? _HOW? _

The pain he'd been having in his head chose the moment to strike – hard. The Doctor cried out and fell to his knees as every particle fought him, rejected him and clawed at him.

He knew what it was. And he shouted it at Amy and Rory as they flocked towards him, wrapping arms around his shoulders and shouting in his face.

'They're using my DNA! They're using my DNA like some big lasso and they're pulling us in!' he cried out as the pain hit him again. 'Like Templar cowboys!'

'Can you stop it?' Rory demanded.

The Doctor's eyes fell on the light, which was blinking pathetically. He felt sweat drip into his eyes.

'We're doomed,' he stated in all the desperation of a man who has nothing left.

* * *

><p><strong>OMG. CHAPTER TWELVE SOON. :D A lot of chapter twelve will go unbeta'd, its ten phases in all and poor SchmEthan just doesn't have the time to go through them all at once D: And some phases are a paragraph long too, so I can just really go through them and apologise for any mistakes. YAY LONG CHAPTERS. :D I can't wait to put it up! Anyway, ta' for reading, much love! *Heart with hands* <strong>


	15. Chapter Twelve Phase One

**SO - I've been away for a couple of weeks, but I've been itching to get home and get going with the no small task of publishing the whole of chapter 12. As I've said before, a lot of it will go unbeta'd, and this is indeed the case here. I apologise for any mistakes in advance - and with no further ado - LETS GET CRACKIN'. **

* * *

><p><em><span>12<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland. _

They were Templar cowboys indeed. The idea was simple, yet inspiring. If Abstergo could harness the power of the TARDIS, there would be no stopping them. So much so that, if they had wanted to, they could simply erase the Assassin Order from existence. No opposing forces. Just one golden pathway to absolute power.

They'd deal with that later.

Vidic had built his plan on one single, shining fact – Subject Seventeen (Desmond Miles) was the past, the present and the future. His ancestors lived and died centuries prior, his physical presence was indeed present, and all he did made the future of this world. How could one man have such power?

And what could one organisation do with it?

Everything.

Three people. The past, the present and the future. Ezio Auditore Da Firenze. Subject Seventeen. The Doctor. All representatives of their own time, and all of them together would bring the TARDIS – which in its little blue shell contained the whole of time – into Abtsergo's waiting grasp. With Miles in the Animus, Vidic would take the DNA of all three and pull them all together with ropes made of strands of genes with Miles acting as a peg in the ground to hold them down. The technology was immense – beautiful. The ability to lock on to DNA existing centuries ago, existing now, and in some ways not even existing at all was contained in one tiny USB that was sitting in the port of the computer connecting to the Animus in TORCHOOD 6.2.

And under the watchful eye of all its employees, Vidic had placed it there, and stood back as he had activated the BADWOLF programme and let everything take its course.

Shadowing Vidic, Darren McDonald watched it all with a sickening feeling.

The Animus glowed.

Subject Seventeen's fingers began to twitch.

* * *

><p><strong>Painfully short, I know, but phase two is on its way this very night! Keep an eye peeled! :D <strong>


	16. Chapter Twelve Phase Two

**Something longer for you, but not by much :P Seriously, the chapter'll function better like this XD Enjoy! **

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><p><em><span>March 16<span>__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'Ezio, are you alright?'

The pain was getting worse. Ezio had almost fallen from his horse, and he clutched the edge of his saddle so hard his knuckles turned white. His forehead rested for a brief moment on the neck of the horse, which twitched its ears in agitation, and he grimaced into its hide.

He had to carry on. He had no time to be ill.

'_Sì._' He murmured, and, with extraordinary effort, righted himself again and attempted a reassuring smile at Machiavelli, who did not seem all too convinced. His own mare stamped her feet restlessly as he reined her in and gave Ezio a critical look.

'You do realize you are no more than human, and that it is natural to show weakness?'

Ezio bristled at the word. 'I'm fine. Just tired, is all. I'll send the recruits on my next missions, and give myself a break.'

Machiavelli raised an eyebrow, his look lingering on Ezio for a moment longer. 'Very well.' He conceded, and urged his mare into a slow walk. Ezio did the same, and did his best to ignore the pain. It didn't come in phases anymore – it was permanent – lurking in the back of his head in a throb and striking harder each time. He would have a _Dottore _see to him later.

'Cesare Borgia has assembled a personal army – a group of Templars key to his order and lethal to our cause.' Machiavelli continued. 'It is crucial we deal with these agents as swiftly as possible. They pose as figures in _Romano _society – one a blacksmith, one a courtesan, even as far as a _barbiere_. They work to terrorise the people, and bring them to order. If we have any hope of disabling Cesare's forces, we must – _Ezio!_'

The pain had reached its climax, and had had Ezio's vision go black as he toppled off his horse. It whinnied in panic, and stamped its feet as Ezio staggered forward, tripping over his boots. Everything in him was pulling him forward, and blinding white pain flashed behind his eyes. He moaned, his hand over his eyes as Machiavelli called after him – but his blood was roaring in his ears. He couldn't hear him. Every thought he had tugged him forward. He had to go somewhere. He had to _be _somewhere – it was _calling _to him –

'Ezio, what are you doing?' Machiavelli demanded as Ezio reached for his horse again – its eyes rolled in fear, and almost bucked as Ezio hauled himself back on.

'I need – I need to go.' He managed, taking the reins in a feeble grip – the pain lashed out again, and he felt his head snap back. Barely aware of himself, he hauled himself on and kicked the horse into action – and it lurched into a gallop.

'Ezio!' Machiavelli yelled after him, urging the mare into speed – but it was too late – all he could see were the hooves of Ezio's horse kicking up dirt in the road. Machiavelli wheeled the stamping mare around and raised his fingers to his lips, from which a shrill whistle sounded. Barely a moment passed before two horses and riders appeared on the adjoining road – and red and white robes flew in the wind.

The recruits were never too far away.

'Zita, Giovanni – go after your _Maestro_, make sure he doesn't hurt himself! Bring him to the _Tiber_, I will gather the Assassins together!' Machiavelli yelled at them as they drew alongside him, and kicked the mare into a gallop. She reared, her hooves flailing, but came down heavily on the ground and was soon thundering back down the road she'd come from. The recruits didn't dawdle, and kicked their own mounts into action, and were soon chasing after the dimishing figure of the _Maestro_.

* * *

><p><strong>Phase three up soon! :D <strong>


	17. Chapter Twelve Phase Three

**I can't believe how painfully short these phases are But I'll keep 'em coming! :D **

* * *

><p><em><span>Time is Relative. <span>_

_Doomed _is a strong word. A powerful word. It's the end of all things – the word you use when there is nothing left and there is no hope to be found.

In a place like the TARDIS, it makes bells ring.

The Cloister Bell rang true – and it made it all too clear that the beats of four hearts pounding in three pairs of ears could be their last.

'It's starting!' The Doctor yelled, just before the TARDIS spun. Amy screamed as she was knocked away, Rory yelling her name and reaching for her desperately – and the Doctor was thrown to the floor in the darkness, moaning as the pain reached its agonizing peak. There was white behind his eyes – and every atom inside him tore itself to pieces.

And in his ears, just under the sound of things smashing and the screams of his companions, he could hear a hum.

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><p><strong>ONWARDS, FRIENDS.<strong>


	18. Chapter Twelve Phase Four

**Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...**

* * *

><p><em><span>12<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland._

The employees of TORCHWOOD 6.2 started to shift nervously and looked at each other with wide eyes. They'd never heard the Animus _buzz _like that – the whole thing was vibrating with the energy pouring through it. Its hum made them afraid.

And the look to Vidic's eyes was madness. Sheer madness. As the computer began to smoke, and the screen began to flicker, he threw his arms wide and laughed at nothing – before fixing his eyes on the Animus.

'Reel him in, Miles! Reel him in!'

The sound of the Animus reached a pitch that burst the eardrums of the employees standing nearest to it. As they screamed and fell to the floor, the lights in the room began to flicker, and the floor began to shake. Soon cries of terror were heard all over, and pandemonium ensued.

The glass of the Animus cracked.

* * *

><p>'Let us out!'<p>

'We'll die in here, you bastards!'

'Somebody open this damn door!'

Rebecca shook the bars of the door – the lock jangled, but it was no use. No one was coming for them. This whole place was going to cave in on them both, and there was fuck all to do about it. She yelled as the whole place shook again – and the iron ceiling creaked.

'Fuck, Shaun! Fuck!' She screamed, purely because that sickening feeling in her stomach told her that this was it. The end. So long, suckers.

'I know Rebecca! I know!' Shaun raised his foot to give the door a resounding kick – and then the ceiling creaked again as two tons of office came down on it. Barely aware with what she was doing, Rebecca seized him around the waist and, with reflexes and strength only a sportswoman can have, hauled him backwards as the ceiling came down. Dust billowed upwards in their faces, and sirens from upstairs screamed at them.

_All employees to evacuate immediately. This is not a drill. All employees to evacuate immediately. This is not a drill. All employees –_

The recorded voice just soon became background noise as Shaun and Rebecca stared at the heap of wrecked ceiling before them. If there'd been hope of an escape before, there certainly wasn't one now. Everything was blocked. All they were left with was one tiny space and a wall. And it was this that Rebecca fell against, sliding down and looked at death. It grinned back at her, and waited patiently.

She felt Shaun sit down by her, equally as stunned.

'We're not getting out of here, are we?'

'Nope.'

'We either get crushed or we suffocate. What one would you rather?'

'Suffocate. Getting crushed'll suck ass.'

'Well, let's hope for the best then.'

There was a moment of silence. They both groped for a hand, found each other's, and were content with that.

They waited for the end.

* * *

><p><strong>Bear with me guys. D:<strong>


	19. Chapter Twelve Phase Five

**YAY ASSASSINS :D  
><strong>**_A QUICK TRANSLATION: _**I miei ringraziamenti i più profondi. - _You have my deepest thanks. _

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><p><em><span>March 16<span>__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'What – what the hell is happening!' Ezio cried out, his vision completely fading out to nothing but flashing images and the agony in his head filtering through them like blood in water. He didn't pay attention to them – he didn't know what they meant and the pain was all too much – but what he saw was something blue – flying through the night –

The pain hit him again. With nothing but a whimper, he fell from his horse and onto his back, where he stared at the sky. He'd been right – a storm was on the way. The sky was grey, and raindrops began to fall on his face.

'_Maestro!_ _Maestro_, are you alright?'

He recognized that voice. His horse shied and neighed as two others joined it. There was a thud of boots on the ground, and he reached up to the sky.

'Help – help me…'

'We are here, _Maestro_.' There was a firm, strong grip on his hand. That was Giovanni's hand – he'd used it to haul the novice out of the canal where he'd fallen into many times. It wasn't a novice's flailing grip anymore – it was an Assassin's grip, and for that Ezio was thankful. The pain rolled around his head as he was lifted upwards, and he moaned. Arms wrapped around his waist, and his own were draped across armored shoulders.

'Back to the _Tiber_, _Maestro_.' A woman's voice – Zita – her initiation into the Brotherhood was long due. 'You'll be safe there.'

'No!' Ezio shouted at them; he hadn't meant to, but his very being rejected the idea. The recruits stopped, puzzled. 'No – we have to keep going.' Ezio gasped.

'Keep going? But where to, _Maestro_?'

'Somewhere. I don't know where, but it's calling to me. We have to go. Will you help me?'

Ezio was the head of the Brotherhood. He commanded respect and loyalty. But whatever this was – it wasn't anything they knew. If they were going to go through the fire and the flames with him, it would have to be their own choice.

'Of course, _Maestro_.' Giovanni answered.

'To the very end.' Zita agreed.

'_I miei ringraziamenti i più profondi_.' Ezio murmured. 'Help me up onto my horse. We'll keep going forward. I'll know when we have arrived.'

The recruits obliged, helping Ezio back onto his skittish horse – handing him the reins and putting his feet in the stirrups. Ezio ground his teeth together as another wave of agony hit him – but with sweat pouring into his eyes and into mouth – he resolved to defeat the source. With a cry, he kicked his horse forward, with his two recruits following him into his own battle.

* * *

><p><strong>Onwards!<strong>


	20. Chapter Twelve Phase Six

**Nearlytherenearlythere **

* * *

><p><em><span>Time is Relative <span>_

Once upon a time, in a quiet April in Scotland, there was a blue box flying in the sky. And it was being dragged down to hell.

The three people inside it screamed as they were flung into things – husband and wife reached for each other for the sake of needing to be held, while the Timelord curled up into a ball with his hands clasped around his ears, moaning as pain and whispers rampaged through his head. The bell tolled while the sound of a terrified TARDIS began – a scream.

They were landing.

* * *

><p><strong>If you've stuck with me for this long, you bloody well deserve a biscuit of some description.<strong>


	21. Chapter Twelve Phase Seven

**JUST THREE MORE.**

* * *

><p><em><span>12<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland._

Amidst the chaos, a wind had started in TORCHWOOD 6.2. It threw up papers in a whirlwind – and the eye of the storm was Vidic - Vidic with a mad gleam in his eye with his arms thrown open wide and laughing at the sound of a universe terrified. Darren McDonald threw himself to the ground, and crawled away from Vidic, sobbing in terror.

This was it.

They were all going to die.

And when the TARDIS began to appear as a dim outline in front of Vidic, McDonald didn't feel saved. All the other people – those TORCHWOOD arseholes who'd been in that thing said the noise meant salvation. It meant hope.

For McDonald, it meant only the end.

He sat up against the Animus, hugged his knees and sobbed.

There was the sound of breaking glass.

Subject Seventeen screamed.

* * *

><p>'Help! Somebody, help me – please!'<p>

Lucy's palm met the glass again and again. Her guard had fled when the alarms'd started sounding. She was all alone, and she was going to die alone.

And she had a feeling that it was all her fault.

'Please…somebody…' She sobbed, and fell to her knees as the lights flickered on and off.

That number. Fuck. She hoped she'd never see it again – but there it was, on the end of _his _mobile –

9. 6. 7. 4. 2.

'Help me.'

* * *

><p><strong>JUST A FEW MORE...<strong>


	22. Chapter Twelve Phase Eight

***Drags self onwards***

* * *

><p><em><span>March 16<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

Ezio screamed. The pain was unreal. No crossbow bolt in the world to the heart could beat it. Every atom in him was ripping itself apart, and doing the same to the others. They were here – whatever was dealing him this pain – killing him slowly – it was here.

It was a quiet spot in the wouldn't be for much longer.

Ezio, somehow, scrambled off his horse, and was running towards one spot on the hillside, withdrawing his sword and holding it high. His recruits were behind him in a flash.

Ezio could hear the universe.


	23. Chapter Twelve Phase Nine

**JUST ONE MORE.**

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><p><em><span>12<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland. _

Desmond Miles was awake. He wasn't in this reality – not properly – images of Rome were still fading behind his eyes and the language on his tongue was still Italian.

But he knew his face was bleeding – and that he wasn't in Rome. Wherever he was, it was going through hell – people were screaming, papers were flying – he dismissed the faded blue box as a hallucination – but he recognized that white lab coat.

_Vidic. _

His emotions connected themselves again. And what he felt first was rage. With a roar, his fingers found the wire in his arm – white and gleaming, and he ripped it from himself. The Animus shut down, its lights fading, and Vidic wheeled around with wide eyes in time to see Desmond spring from the Animus with bloodied face. Vidic turned back, and howled in dismay when he saw that the blue box was fading away. He threw himself at it – and his fingers brushed cool wood – but soon they felt nothing. He turned back, and Desmond was mere inches away before his guards burst from the crowd and tackled him to the floor.

And somewhere – a blue box had been hurled on a rebound of energy into space and time – and with that rebound came information about DNA – DNA that the TARDIS recognized and knew that it didn't come from wherever they'd been dragged to.

It'd take the last of her energy.

Her last action was to set the coordinates.

They fell.


	24. Chapter Twelve Phase Ten

**At last. Enjoy, guys. :D  
><em>A QUICK TRANSLATION: <em>**La tempesta in arrivo. - _The oncoming storm._

* * *

><p><em><span>March 16<span>__th__, 1500. Rome _

The sound of the universe was a strange one. It synchronised with Ezio's soul almost perfectly – and the pain was gone as though it'd never been there. It healed him. He froze on the spot as a sudden wind picked up on the hillside – although it wasn't from the oncoming storm.

As though Leonardo Da Vinci were painting it into a picture, a blue box came to be. Slowly, though – Ezio watched with wide eyes as wood and detail faded into existence. A sign – written in what Ezio vaguely recognised to be English. A smaller door in one of the box's bigger ones.

A final thunk from the box.

_'Mio Dio_…' Giovanni murmured. 'What in God's name is this sorcery?'

Ezio reached out and pressed his palm against the wood. It felt wonderful on his skin, and his fingertips tingled. A lullaby with the softest voice in all the universe thrummed underneath his subconscious, and the sound dribbled into his soul like honey.

It was almost as if a force surrounding the box was welcoming his touch.

'My mother told me tales of such an object.'

Ezio turned to see Zita considering the box with a thoughtful expression, her head tilted to one side. 'She was a gypsy – I grew up surrounded with legends. This was one of them. The blue box and the _Dottore_.'

'The _Dottore_? Who is he?'

'A man of legend, _Maestro_. Sometimes, the tales called him _la tempesta __in arrivo_.'

Ezio turned back to the box and its welcoming forces. Something compelled him to push open the door – to walk into the unknown and never return.

He didn't, in the end, for the door was opened for him.

* * *

><p><strong>Guess what chpater 13 is going to be made up of? That's right, MORE PHASES! *Facepalm* I promise that they'll be of a reasonable length though, not like the past TEN. D: Thanks for sticking with me, and I'll be posting soon! :D <strong>


	25. Chapter Thirteen Phase One

**MOAR PHASES. But longer ones, I promise. :D Enjoy guys! **

* * *

><p><em><span>14<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland_

When the storm had passed, after Vidic had vented his wrath on employees, equipment and himself and everyone had watched, new plans swung into action. The employees dragged themselves back to their desks and tried to forget what they had seen. The thought to check the damage in the basement only occurred an hour later, and it was a further hour until Shaun and Rebecca were dragged from the rubble, just about breathing, but alive and thus ready to be put to work again. They were given new electronic bracelets and were led away in opposite directions after one desperate look to each other that said '_will I ever see you again?' _

The guards did their best to ignore it.

Stillman was looked in upon – the prison had held up well during the attack, and a guard was reinstated at the door. No one seemed to notice the woman curled up in a tiny ball at the bottom of her box, her hands fisted in her hair as though she might tear it out.

And, with some difficulty, Subject Seventeen was sedated and put back in the Animus as soon as it was repaired – all Vidic's orders. He knew where the TARDIS had gone. He knew what it meant for all he had worked for since 2005.  
>'<em>Find him<em>,' he had hissed to the workers as they took up their keyboards. 'Drag every last memory out of him until you see that blasted Doctor.'

The tapping of keys had peppered their fear.

And McDonald was ordered into his own office – which had been commandeered by Vidic wordlessly, and stood in front of the man himself and did his best not to look terrified. It wasn't his fault that Miles had gone loopy and pulled himself out of that fucking thing – Vidic couldn't say anything, couldn't touch him.  
>Or so he hoped to any damn god that might be listening.<br>Vidic's rage had been spent on what was left of the contents of the office after Hastings had been at it. The employees installing a new computer while Vidic nursed a brandy didn't look only afraid, but were slightly doubtful that their effort would be worth the while. Vidic didn't look up at McDonald, not until the employees screwed the last screw, hurried out and shut the door behind them, thanking God that they weren't that poor bastard. It was another good couple of minutes before Vidic said anything at all.

'Why did Subject Seventeen wake up, Darren?'

McDonald wasn't prepared for that one. 'Uh, sir?'

'I'm not stupid, McDonald. Why did Desmond Miles wake up during the BADWOLF programme?'

'I don't know – maybe a fault in the Animus? Maybe he wasn't sedated enough? How was I supposed to know? Ask the staff – it's their fault. They should know.'

'Hmm,' Vidic rolled the brandy around the glass, downed it, and stood up – placing his hands on the desk and giving McDonald a level look. 'Maybe it is the staff's fault. But who employed the staff, hmm? Who did that?'  
>Shit, he'd got McDonald there. But McDonald was one member of the human race akin to many – the automatic response to pressure or to danger was to get cocky.<p>

'Uh, Stacey from HR?'

It wasn't the best survival trait evolution had provided.

'It was _YOU!_' Vidic's fist came down on the table, knocking the glass over so it cracked on the table and made McDonald start violently. 'It was _you _who hired these people, _you _who I thought capable of running this place, and it was _you _who was meant to make sure everything went to plan! And guess what, McDonald – it hasn't. And do you know whose to blame?'

McDonald didn't need to take a guess at this one.

'Me, sir.'

'Yes. You. You incompetent _fool,_' Vidic hissed, sitting back down heavily in McDonalds seat – _his _seat. 'Billions of dollars worth of equipment damaged – nearly twice as much to repair it. We don't have that kind of money, McDonald. It'll have to be paid eventually.'

'You're a bloody secret organisation! Aren't you meant to have caves somewhere with gold piled up to the ceiling and butlers with fucking jewel encrusted _balls?_ _Its not my fault the thing broke!_'

'We may be secret, but we sure as hell aren't rich!' Vidic's face was changing colour, and his voice was rising again. 'The blame has to fall somewhere, and it falls on you. Get the funds from TORCHOOD HQ.'

'_What? _Are you out of your mind? London wouldn't transfer a billion quid to us just like that!'

'I don't care. If you don't get those funds, you'll face much worse than just being out of a job, I assure you.'

'But – '

'Get out of my sight, McDonald.'

McDonald was sure to slam the door of his old office behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Onwards, friends! :D <strong>


	26. Chapter Thirteen Phase Two

**Carries directly on from the last phase :D**

* * *

><p>'Fucking twat,' McDonald mumbled around his cigarette and into his palms as he struggled to light it. 'Fucking sodding scumbag <em>twat<em>.'

He wasn't sure who he was cursing – Vidic, or himself for believing in him and following him around like some devoted puppy. He didn't like the thought of cursing himself, so he stuck to cursing Vidic instead.

It was cold out today – he was buttoned up in his black coat to his neck as he sat on a bench in the local high street and watched the very few people who were there bustle by, hunched up on themselves to keep the cold out. He took the cigarette out of his mouth to sip on his Subway coffee and take a bite out of a ham and cheese footlong on hearty Italian. He wasn't sure why he bought it – if he was meant to make these funds magically appear, then he better get himself a god dammed piggy bank; there was no way in hell HQ would ever hand over those funds.

And when Vidic realised this, he wouldn't be a happy man at all.

'Fucking twat,' McDonald mumbled again – the words were like a teddy bear a child clutches to when it's afraid of something.

High heels clicked on the path somewhere close by. He ignored them, and took another long drag on his cigarette.

'Hey.'

McDonald glared up at the source of the voice, and was surprised to see it was the secretary back at work. He couldn't remember her name, but he remembered that she was a great shag.

'What do you want.' He didn't phrase it as a question – he wanted it to sound like _go away _as much as humanly possible.

'Just wondering what the deal is. The whole place near bloody exploded the other day.' She started rummaging in a bag at her side, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. 'Got a light?'

Giving her his lighter would invite her to conversation – the mere prospect of which stirred a deep loathing in McDonald, but he still shrugged and passed her his lighter all the same.

'Thanks,' She said, and, with a fag held between her lips, cupped her hands around it as she lit up. When she was done, she handed the lighter back to him and sat down on the bench beside him. McDonald shifted away in the hope that she might get the message to _piss off _but she didn't seem deterred. Crossing one leg over the other, she blew smoke into the cold and studied McDonald. 'You've had a day 'n an half, I can tell.'

'You wouldn't believe it.'

The pair filled their lungs with smoke as silence slipped by.

'Heard Vidic kicked you out of your office,' she said conversationally. McDonald shifted a little so the urge to shout in her face was weakened slightly.

'Wouldn't say kicked out. More relocated.'

'Oh. Right.' She didn't sound too convinced.

'Look, what the hell do you want from me? 'Coz if you're here just to get a cheap laugh then you can jog the fuck on and leave me alone,' McDonald stressed.

'I just want to help you out, that's all.'

'Well, you can forget about it.' McDonald threw his fag down on the floor, trod it out, snatched up his coffee and sandwich and got up. 'See you,' he spat, and made to walk away.

'You'll never get that funding without my help.'

McDonald turned slowly. She was looking at him with her dyed blonde hair with brunette roots, dodgy eye makeup and one heck of a smug look.

_How does she…_

'There's a lot of things I know about. I know that your dad took off when you were three, your brother's in prison for doing drugs, and your dear old mum topped herself when she saw what a failure her family had become.' she said. 'I know all about the Animus, the BADWOLF project, Vidic, and who you're working for. Templars,' she grinned. 'Impressive for a secretary, eh?'

There was no way in hell she was a secretary.

_How did she know?_

McDonald's coffee was suddenly cold in his hand.

'What are you?' he found himself asking, slightly stunned and slightly breathless.

He watched as she transferred her fag to one hand, and used spare fingers to pull off one of the leather gloves she was wearing.

It was her right hand.

There was a finger missing there.

McDonald's coffee dropped to the ground from his slack hand.

'A friend,' was all she said.

* * *

><p><strong>Onwards to the last for tonight!<strong>


	27. Chapter Thirteen Phase Three

**This was fun to write :D And when I said to my dad I'd put some of this in Italian after getting the translation out of Google, he predicted that if I reversed it, it'd come out something completely different, like a complex order for an icecream. LOL. Anyway, enjoy! :D **

* * *

><p>McDonald had never been inside a girl's apartment – he always took them back to his – and so was surprised to find this one not in a pristine form but very much lived in, the way apartments should be. There were TV magazines scattered across the coffee table with tea rings practically engraved on the wood, peeling blue paint on the walls, stains on the carpet and a basket of laundry sitting on the dining table where she must've taken it out of her washing machine in the morning before she went to work.<p>

On the drive to her house, McDonald learnt a lot about her. Firstly, she said her name was Maria (he was relieved he wouldn't have to admit that he'd forgotten it) that she'd grown up in Cambridge, had a degree in applied mathematics and that her accent was actually false – her true accent was pristine and quite articulate English, and that she purposefully dyed her brunette hair blonde so people would expect less of her and she'd melt into the background, unnoticed and free to do all she liked.

Oh, and that her missing finger was a result of joining the Assassin Brotherhood – an order that she was born into. _Removing your finger isn't necessary, _she'd added, _I just wanted to show up my brother who was too much of a coward to have it done. _McDonald had just sort of nodded and shrunk a little in his seat.

An Assassin, right under his nose. And right under _him _once too. Fuck. If Vidic thought the Animus breaking was something to be worried about, he couldn't wait to tell him about this.

But right now, he was sitting on a threadbare sofa, holding a mug of tea (he'd made an effort not to stare at the gap in her hand where her finger should've been when she passed it to him) and was obediently munching on a biscuit from a plate on the table. She – Maria – was sitting across from him on another sofa in a similar state to his, dunking biscuits in her tea and watching him with a laptop humming to itself next to her.

'What went on down there, Darren? I couldn't get close enough – security carted me out of the building while everyone from upstairs was running out when I tried to have a look.'

McDonald rubbed the back of his neck and pinched the skin there. 'Nothing you'd ever believe.'

Maria's hands circled her mug of tea – and McDonald found himself staring at that gap in her hand.

'Oh, I would,' she said.

McDonald found himself believing her.

'When the TARDIS started to materialise, I think it got too much for the Animus to cope with. Miles broke out and disrupted the whole programme, and the TARDIS disappeared to god knows where. If the Doctor's got any sense at all, it'll be well away from here.'

He watched her carefully, wondering if she knew what he was talking about.

'We – the Brotherhood, know exactly where he went. Or rather, _when_.'

McDonald looked puzzled as she placed her mug on the coffee table, stood up and went over to the rickety old bookcase. She stopped in what looked like a trilogy of thick hardbacks, put both her hands on either side of them, and dragged out one big box from the bookshelf. If McDonald wasn't so surprised, he'd be very impressed indeed. But he was surprised, so he sat and watched her struggle over with the box disguised as a trilogy and watched her drop it gently on the table. She sat down, took a sip of her tea, and opened the box up.

There, hidden away, laid one big book. It was yellow with age, and the smell of centuries surrounded McDonald and made him want to cough, but the motif on the front was what made him stop breathing.

The Assassin symbol.

'Our ancestors, the founding fathers of the Brotherhood, took turns to keep records of each decade. You can find these all over the world. About a year ago, we were contacted by the Brotherhood in Italy – they'd picked up something in this one.' Maria set down her tea and looked at McDonald. 'Ever heard of Niccolò Machiavelli?'

'Who?'

'Didn't think so.' Maria sighed. 'Born in Florence, Italy in 1469, third child of Bernardo di Niccolò Machiavelli and his wife Bartolomea di Stefano Nelli, and considered one of the founding fathers of political science. And his spare time, part of the Assassin order in Rome from 1503 onwards. He was also close with Ezio Auditore da Frienze, one of the order's legends.'

'Now _him _I've heard of. Vidic never shuts up about him.'

'I'm not surprised. It's him and what he taught that we all work towards – and what the Italian Brotherhood picked up on. There's a record in here that concerns him and someone who Niccolò calls the _Dottore_.'

Even McDonald knew what that meant. 'The Doctor?'

'Couldn't be anyone else.' Maria opened the book to a page where a piece of paper had been left, and traced an elegant hand. '_Sedicesima__marzo__, 1500_.' She said in flawless Italian. 'Sixteenth of March, 1500. "_L'universo__non è__quello che sappiamo__di essere__, questo __molto più__ora so__. __Pensare__che ciò che__sapeva__dei__impallidisce__di significato__a questo.__Questo__, __**questa**__sfida__l'intero concetto__. __E 'ciò che__la razza umana ha__sognato__, __soffriva per__-__tutto quello che abbiamo__mai desiderato__di esistere.__E l'uomo__dietro__sfida ogni__concetto di__divinità__, perché __è uno__solo. __Il dio__degli uomini.__Dorme__sotto il nostro tetto__adesso, e__mi chiedo__che la mattina__se il mondo__sarà__lo stesso che__ho trovato__ieri."_'

McDonald blinked at her. 'I'm not some sort of language wizard. I'm Scottish, for fuck's sake.'

Maria gave him a withering look. 'It says: "_The universe is not what we know it to be, this much I now know. To think that what we knew about gods pales in significance to this. This... This defies the whole concept. It is what the human race has dreamed of, ached for - all we have ever wished to exist. And the man behind it all defies the concept of gods because he is one himself. The god of men. He sleeps under our roof now, and I find myself wondering that in the morning if the world will be the same as I found it yesterday."_'

'Well there's only one person he could be talking about there.'

'Before they picked up on the word _Dottore _in later entries, they thought Niccolò was talking about Ezio. Niccolò actually compares the two of them later on.' Her finger moved down the page. 'Here. "_I due__di loro sono__anime gemelle__-__persi nel__loro dolore__proprio__e come__ha plasmato__i loro mondi__. __Nessuno dei due__parla di__ciò che hanno perso__verbalmente__, __ma__attraverso le loro azioni__. __Mentre__Ezio__cerca__chi__lo ha__sbagliato e__fece__il suo dolore__per placare__la sete__umana__di vendetta__sanguinosa__, il Dottore __li__cerca solo__di perdonare__. __Solo__gli dei__hanno una tale__capacità__. __Non c'è__tempo per__Ezio__. __Imparerà__molto da questo__uomo__. __Ma fino ad allora__, saranno __camminare tra__i mortali__come divinità__con__riflessioni fatte__dai loro__demoni__, e __plasmare il mondo__come ritengono__opportuno."_'

'Again, English would be great.'

'"_The two of them are kindred spirits - lost in their own grief and how it has shaped their worlds. Neither of them talk of what they have lost verbally, but through their actions. While Ezio seeks out those who did him wrong and caused him his pain to quench the human thirst for bloody revenge, the Doctor seeks them only to forgive. Only gods have such an ability. There is time left for Ezio. He will learn much from this man. But until then, they will walk among mortals as gods with reflections made from their own demons, and shape the world as they deem fit."_'

'This Niccolò seems like a clever bastard.'

'After what happened today, it's clear that the Doctor crashed in Ezio's time. All he got up to is in this book, but in his memories, nothing.'

'You have access to the memory logs?'

Maria gave him a look. 'I'm an Assassin spy working directly under the nose of the top Abstergo agents, and I've been doing so for about a year now. What do you think?'

'Fair point. What happens now?'

'I read all the passages through and pick up on anything interesting while you and I work on getting Hastings, Crane and Miles out of Abstergo. I don't know why the Doctor hasn't shown up in Ezio's memories, but I daren't leave anything to chance.'

'Whoa – stop _right _there. Me and you? I don't think so. I'm risking more than my job just sitting here and drinking tea.'

'Look at it this way. You help me, I help you. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. I can get that funding you need – the Order can do a foolproof transaction that'll look exactly like one from TORCHWOOD HQ.'

'Vidic's not stupid, he'll want to know where it's come from. Money like that doesn't turn up overnight!'

'Do you think we're _that _stupid? Of course it wouldn't be overnight, the money would come through after a week! Our teams will compose emails between you and TORCHWOOD, and you'll show them to Vidic and he'll be convinced.'

'Bullshit. What's stopping me from walking out of here and turning you in right now?'

'I have Assassins outside my apartment block. They'll be putting holes in you as soon as you step outside my door if I give the word.'

'Bullshit,' McDonald repeated again.

'Of course it is. But you won't turn me in. This affects us as much as it does you, and you need that money.'

McDonald was on his feet and shrugging his coat on. 'I'm out of here. Screw your help, I'll figure it out myself.'

Maria didn't move to stop him – in fact, she made herself comfortable on her sofa. 'I give it ten minutes. Ten minutes to change your mind.'

'Fuck you.'

'Please yourself.'

The door slammed. Maria sighed, put Niccolò's diary away, made herself another cup of tea, flicked through last month's TV listings, yawned, wondered if she should shower or take a bath that night, and was just settling down to watch another rerun of _Friends _when someone pounded on her door. Sighing, she padded over to the door, opened it, and glanced at her watch.

'That was nine minutes and forty seconds. I underestimated you, McDonald.'

'Shut up.'

* * *

><p><strong>How do you solve a problem like Maria... *Whistle* Chapter 14 up in the near future! :D Each review rocks my world ;) <strong>


	28. Chapter Fourteen

**WELL ITS BEEN A WHILE. So very, VERY sorry for not updating this sooner! There's been so much going on in my life that I've barely had the time! ANYWAY, expect most chapters from this point onwards to be unbeta'd. SchmEthan is finally at university and enjoying his life as a fresher (Getting drunk and generally being a nuisance) so I shall go without a beta for now. Anyway, enjoy! :D**

_**SOME QUICK TRANSLATIONS:  
><strong>_Cinque ore cazzo! __- Five fucking hours!  
><em>Bastardo pazzo! <em>- Crazy bastard!  
><em>Ragazza intelligente. - <em>Clever girl.  
><em>Famiglia <em>- Family.

* * *

><p><em><span>March 16<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

'I implore you Niccolò; call a on a search!'

'I trust Zita and Giovanni. They will bring him home safely.'

'It's been five hours!' Bartolomeo yelled as he wheeled around from his pacing. '_Cinque ore __cazzo! _There's been no sign of him – we must find Ezio now before it is too late!'

'Time is of the essence!' La Volpe hissed in agreement.

'I'm sure that whatever his reason for not returning, it is a sound one. I trust Ezio.'

'From what you said, it sounded like he was out of his mind!' Bartolomeo roared, his pummelling his fist into his hand. 'For God's sake Niccolò - _do something!_'

'Ezio would never take off without notice,' a female voice said from the fire – all looked round to see Claudia Auditore looking at Machiavelli with the cold, hard eyes of a woman enraged. 'You underestimate him. I do not care to imagine his rage when he saw our family hung. Whatever has possessed him now, it will hound him until there is nothing left to chew. We must find him!'

Tension was thick in the air, being inhaled by three pairs of lungs and solidifying there, becoming frustration, worry and anger. La Volpe, Bartolomeo and Claudia stared at Machiavelli with wide eyes. With Ezio absent, his authority over the Brotherhood was clear.

'We will wait.' He said firmly.

'_Bastardo __pazzo!_' Bartolomeo shouted at him, La Volpe's mouth tightened, and something behind Claudia's eyes sparked. 'You sentence Ezio to death! I'm going out to search for him, and no crazy fool will stop me!'

'If you do, you put yourself in danger. Something was calling to Ezio in his own mind – he moved like a man possessed. He can fight for himself!'

'He needs us, Niccolò! I'm going with Bartolomeo!' La Volpe said, getting to his feet.

'I will gather the Assassins.' Claudia stated, also rising.

'_You will sit._'

Everyone stared at Machiavelli, who had stood behind his desk, planted both fists on the table and was managing to meet all the eyes on him.

La Volpe walked towards him. His glare was a challenge.

'Will we now?' He hissed.

The door burst open, and everyone wheeled round. For stood in the doorway was Giovanni, breathing hard and his face the one of the man who's whole sense of the world had been chewed up and spat at his feet.

'Giovanni! Where is Ezio?' Machiavelli demanded.

'You must come quickly! Something – something – _Signore_, I cannot describe it! Come!'

When Giovanni turned back and ran, no one waited for him to gain a headstart. Bartolomeo was first, snatching up Bianca the sword from the table, followed by La Volpe, then by Claudia and Machiavelli last, who had graciously let the lady go before him.

A moment later, there was the sound of horse's shoes thundering on cobbles as they took off into the night.

* * *

><p>There wasn't much left of the candle Leonardo had lit so he could see his work better in the dark, but he was not awake to notice it. The parchments he'd fallen asleep upon fluttered in the wake of his breath. A quill was limp in his fingers, and his fingertips were splattered with ink. One couldn't blame the man – under Cesare Borgia's watchful eye, respite and rest were rare miracles.<p>

This is also true for the Assassin order.

The window was thrown open, and wind flew in and extinguished the candle. It was not the wind that woke Leonardo, but the incessant shaking of his shoulder.

'_Signore? Signore_, wake up!'

Leonardo mumbled as reality was handed back to him slowly. First he was aware of the parchment stuck to his face – how embarrassing - but also the figure who was leaning through the window and balancing on the pane as though they were a feline without a care in the world and was nudging him desperately.

'Ezio…?' The thought tumbled out of him in a croak.

'No _Signore._ It's me. Zita.'

'Zita?' Leonardo said, more awake now. 'What on earth are you doing here? Did anyone see you sneak in?'

'No, _Signore_. You must come quickly! The _Maestro _needs you!'

Leonardo was suddenly fully alert. 'He is in danger?'

'He says he needs your mind, but all he needs is a friend.' Zita whispered into the darkness, and pulled out from seemingly nowhere a black cloak with a hood. 'You must hurry!'

There was no question of not going. Leonardo was on his feet in an instant (It was luck that he had fallen asleep at his desk fully clothed) and did up the cloak Zita had given him.

'This way!' She hissed, and then dropped out of the window.

'Oh _Dio_…' Leonardo moaned. 'Why?' Trading his beret for the hood on the cloak, he peered out of the window and saw Zita sliding down the rope as though these sort of things came naturally to her.

'Zita, I am an old man!' He hissed down to her.

'An old man with a friend in need!'

Damn that girl. Leonardo, grunting with effort, hauled himself through the window and grabbed hold of the rope. With his boots scrabbling for a hold on the brick wall outside his workshop, he made his way slowly and painfully down the rope, his limbs protesting the effort only to have Zita seize his hand the moment his feet met the ground.

'This way.'

_Assassins are cats, _Leonardo thought as she led him through the darkness, helping him up as he stumbled from time to time. _Human felines with no regard for gravity or the dark. _

It wasn't long before they were out of the grounds of the workshop – away from the Borgia, and soon there were the sounds of hooves beating on grass as they tore through the night.

* * *

><p>The Assassins, Leonardo, Zita and Giovanni met at the bottom of the hill. The two recruits dismounted and motioned for the others to do the same, and the group tackled the hill on foot while Claudia led the way with a lit lantern held high. While the Assassins remained silent and wary, Leonardo ruthlessly questioned the two recruits in a hushed voice to why they had all been gathered here and what awaited them on top of the hill, and was not satisfied with the answer that the <em>Maestro <em>would explain all when they got there so thus resided to complaining that his old bones hurt until they reached the top, where all thoughts were indeed knocked straight out of his head.

'_Magnifico_.' He breathed. The Assassins seemed similarly stunned – the blue box towered over them all, and from it came the sense that nothing would be the same again, radiating from it like shockwaves.

'How did it get here?' Machiavelli asked as Leonardo moved towards the box, his hands clasped together and his eyes wide in wonder.

'It…just _appeared_, _Signore_,' Giovanni said. 'The _Maestro _said it was calling to him, and when we got here it materialised in front of him as though it had been waiting for him to arrive.'

Machiavelli's gaze travelled from Giovanni to Zita, and his look hardened. 'You can vouch for this account?'

Zita's eyes hardened in response. 'I would swear on it.' She said firmly.

'Then we are faced with something beyond our understanding, and beyond all we have ever known.' Machiavelli said gravely. 'Where is Ezio?'

'After we had been inside of it and each confirmed that we were all seeing the same thing, the _Maestro_ sent us to fetch you and _Signore Da Vinci_. I presume he is still inside.'

'He's inside there _alone?_'

'_Sì Signore_.'

'That man is still as reckless as the boy I first met.' Bartolomeo growled in approval.

'It is good that _Signora Auditore _has bought light.' Zita suddenly said. 'Whatever powers that thing has died upon landing – there is no light inside, only the dim glow from the things inside.'

'He is in there in the dark?'

'We work in the dark to serve the light, no?'

'_Ragazza intelligente._' La Volpe said approvingly, and Zita's cheeks coloured.

Away from the group, Leonardo was lost in exploration. As soon as his fingers brushed the wood of the box, he was greeted with sparks that set his soul alight. Muttering in wonder, he circled the box twice with one hand always touching it like a child with a stick and a fence – while children enjoy the noise, Leonardo was enjoying the sensations of it. There was something wondrous inside this box – he just had to get inside, he had to see –

The door opened almost in his face, and he staggered backwards in time to see Ezio appear from within. '_Ezio!_' He cried in delight, and the sound snared the attention of the group behind them. As Ezio stepped forward to finally embrace his friend, the group clustered around the box, and Ezio greeted them all in turn with a small smile that had all the excitement of a child behind it.

'What the hell is going on, Ezio?' Claudia demanded in a hiss. 'I have been worried sick!'

'Believe me, this will be well worth the worry.' Ezio replied, taking his sister's free hand before looking at each one of his friends in turn. 'I have seen things, felt things tonight that I never thought possible. As I said to these recruits – accompanying me into the unknown has to be their own choice – and I extend this requirement to you, my friends. My _famiglia_. Will you join me?'

There was barely a pause.

'Through hell and back, Ezio.' Bartolomeo said, reaching out and grasping Claudia and Ezio's held hands.

'And twice again if needs be.' La Volpe agreed, laying his hand on top of Bartolomeo's.

'The hounds of hell couldn't stop me.' Leonardo said gravely, and his hand joined the group.

All eyes turned to Machiavelli, who eyed everyone in turn before laying his gloved hand on top of them all. 'And I shall be the voice of reason in this hell bent scheme.' He stated, with a corner of his mouth tilting upwards.

Ezio looked at him seriously. 'I appreciate more than you will ever know, Niccolò.'

Machiavelli tipped his head in response, and everyone pulled their hands away.

'Friends, follow me.' Ezio stated, and turned away into the box. Everyone filed in after him, and the door was closed behind them.

* * *

><p><strong>And what'll they find in there...?<br>Next update soon! :D **


	29. Chapter Fifteen

**YAY FOR UPDATES. :D Not much to say about this one, other than this: If you get the reference, could you get me a Cornetto if you're going to the shop? **

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><p><em><span>15<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland_

Darren McDonald had walked into work the next morning like a man with a guilty secret. And that was mostly because he was a man with a guilty secret – one that could also get him killed. Or worse.

So, no pressure then.

He had left Maria's apartment late at night, after she had gone through exactly what his job was in her little scheme, what not to do, what it meant for everyone in the entire sodding world if he did them and ended with a happy, bright note that he knew where she lived if he ever needed her, and kissed him on the cheek as he left. It'd felt warm afterwards, even when he was in the cold and her door had shut behind him.

Now he sat in his new office – an old, dusty place down the corridor from his old one. Nobody had seemed to mind him taking it (He noticed rather sourly that no one wanted to pay much attention to him anymore) It didn't have the view, but it had a blind on the door which was good enough for him – he'd pulled it down as far as it would go without springing back up again as though he could hide from the Abstergo and the things he was doing. They had eyes everywhere, he knew; it wasn't the most comforting of thoughts.

He eyed the clock on the bottom of his laptop screen nervously. It informed him it was two minutes past twelve, and his stomach did a flip.

Four minutes past twelve was when the plan began. Four minutes past twelve was when McDonald would receive an email – from the Assassins. His involvement in this whole scheme would officially begin. And McDonald was scared. Shit scared. He thought he couldn't be more scared than he was when the whole fucking place nearly blew up, but that was nothing compared to this. And all to help some guy he'd only heard of who'd landed himself in five centuries ago.

Three minutes past twelve.

Shit. He could run out of the office now – down the hallway and crawl crying into Vidic's office and tell him everything and watch as Maria was dragged away to god knows where and he could be happy and have a cup of tea in the midst of all this evil and wait for all this to blow over.

A part of him didn't like that.

The laptop chimed. He had a new email. Four minutes past twelve on the dot. Grimacing in fear, he opened it – all it had were a few documents and a small message:

"_Attached to this email are documents resembling communications between you and TORCHWOOD HQ discussing money transactions. We presume our agent has told you what to do with them. If you have any further questions, contact her. Presume from this moment onwards you are being watched for your own safety. This email will self destruct once the documents are saved to your hard drive.  
>Tread carefully." <em>

It wasn't signed. _Were you expecting it to be? _McDonald asked himself. His fingers moved so that the cursor hovered over the documents attached, and it changed into a little hand, quite willing to make a move that could throw McDonald into a career choice he hadn't hoped for.

Did he have a choice?

Hell no.

He clicked. The email disappeared as though it had never been there, and a new item arrived in his inbox. He clicked again, and firstly he found an email sent by himself to TORCHWOOD HQ listing _everything _that was wrong with his TORCHWOOD. And he found that every single one of them had indeed been faulty before Abstergo swept in and did some spring cleaning. The computer network, their weaponry, their database – all of them faulty or hadn't been working at all.

_Christ, how did they know? _

He scrolled down to see the reply from HQ. Apparently, they hadn't been willing to grant the funding for every mishap, but seventy percent of them were going to be funded – and the total cost reached a tidy number just under a billion. They also informed McDonald that they would grant him a further million to use if anything were to fault again in the next five years, and that the money would be in their offshore bank account in the next week.

The email was dated for two days time. The date Maria had told him to show the emails to Vidic.

'Bloody hell,' McDonald found himself muttering aloud. These Assassins were clearly a bunch of resourceful buggers.

He suddenly felt a lot more positive about his involvement in this plot. A lot more positive indeed. Grinning to himself, he reached for the cup of tea he'd made himself while waiting for the email to arrive, and realised three things in quick succession:

One: He'd had to make the tea himself, not Hastings.

Two: Hastings would still have to come and collect the mug afterwards.

Three: His other job was to notify Crane and Hastings that help was on the way – and to be sneaky about it.

There was no way he could tell him to his face. He told himself that it was because Hastings wouldn't believe him – not that he wasn't brave enough to look that poor bastard in the face and know that those bruises were his fault. Pfft. Course not.

But if he could get a message to him…?

As his mind wondered, his fingers began to toy with the paper doily between cup and saucer while his mouth was occupied with chewing a biro. It was only when he bit down on it too hard which led to ink flooding into his mouth was he inspired.

Shaun had been put back on tea duty – going around the offices, taking orders and picking up empty cups – and as the trolley rattled along down the corridor, his thoughts strayed to Rebecca. Would she be OK? Would Vidic's guards think twice about treating her nicely again?

He didn't want to think about it. But he couldn't help himself. Grimacing as his abused ribs protested the effort, he reached over and opened the door of one of the older offices – McDonald's new one. As Shaun stepped in, he thought to himself that the bastard should count himself lucky he wasn't in there – he would've happily beaten him to a pulp. Comforted with the thought, he nodded sombrely to himself, pushed his cracked glasses up the bridge of his nose and picked up the cup and saucer left on the desk. He swore quietly as the doily in between the two fell out and dropped onto the floor, and grunted as he stooped to pick it back up.

He stopped in surprise.

There was writing on it, scribbled in almost unreadable handwriting:

_HASTINGS:_

"_Her elk lay poised in shadow on nothing to help epiphanies weave a yacht."_

'What the…?' Shaun placed the doily on the table and bent over it, pushing his glasses back up his nose. It wasn't just any random rubbish – it was meant for him, but what the hell did it mean? It had to be a code, _surely _it had to be a code – maybe from the Assassins. But if it had been, Shaun would've cracked it minutes ago. He was well trained in their methods of code breakdown.

Unless it wasn't from them.

He might be looking at the answer in plain sight.

And if it was in plain sight, then it was either someone playing it wisely or someone genuinely stupid.

This was McDonald's office.

Shaun went with the latter.

Grabbing a pen from the desk (Which he noted in disgust was broken and coated with spit) he extended his middle finger and began to write on its side, frowning at the message on the doily.

What he did was simple; he took the first letter from each word. And he ended up with something that made a strange and unpleasant feeling rise up in him:

_HELP IS ON THE WAY._

And that feeling was suspicion. It had to be from McDonald – no one could be so stupid to use the first letters of a word for a code – but why was he telling him help was on the way? Frowning, he found himself picking up the doily as though touching it might bring him an answer, and he found raised marks on the side the message was on.

There was writing on the other side.

_ASK THE RECEPTIONIST. _

Well that didn't help matters at all. And Shaun really had to get a move on. Frowning deeply, he stuffed the doily in his back pocket, rubbed away the writing on his finger and came out of the room holding the cup and saucer, trying to ignore the horrible question on his mind that asked – _is this a trap? _

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><p><strong>A year or so of writing Crack!Fics with your best friend do rather help when constructing sentences that make no sense. :L Next chapter'll be up soon, and its a cracker. Review and I'll ROCK YOUR WORLD. ;D <strong>


	30. Chapter Sixteen Phase One

**DEAR GOD WHAT IS THIS. AN UPDATE? SURELY NOT.  
><strong>**Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce the arrival of a half term and a much needed break from school. MUCH UPDATING WILL BE DONE. This one's another one uploaded in two phases. Enjoy. :)**

**_SOME QUICK TRANSLATIONS:  
><em>Paradosso - <em>_**

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><p><em><span>March 17th, 1500. Rome<span>_

It was the small hours of the morning. And yet, so much had happened that time had become something ignored – it existed, but it wasn't considered.

Leonardo had been the first to run from the box, circling it while muttering furiously under his breath, coming in again, going out, coming in again until he finally exhausted himself to the point where he sat inside on one of the curious chairs, hand on his chin, muttering under his breath and dismissing anyone who came near with an abrupt wave while his brain tried to make sense of it all. Ezio had taken the lantern gently from his sister's hand before she stormed out and stood outside with her arms folded over her chest, refusing to come back inside because it _simply __isn__'__t __possible, __for __heaven__'__s __sake! _And while La Volpe and Bartolomeo did much the same but returned to uncover the mirrors that made this trick work, Machiavelli stood inside, raised an eyebrow at all he could see in the dim lantern light and made a sort of non committal noise, while his insides churned.

It had been a while before anyone noticed the fact that Ezio and his recruits were strangely quiet. And, upon further exploration, found that they had found the three people unconscious and unmoving on the other whole room inside the little blue box, behind the strange pillar and what circled it. They had watched, silent, as Ezio placed the lantern down on the floor and approached the first prone figure – a man stressed strangely and a look of pain on his face. Ezio had considered him for a while before laying two fingers on the side of the man's neck.

'He lives,' He'd determined after a short while. Before he knew it, Leonardo was shooing him away as if the diagnosis of life needed confirming by a professional, and found himself looking up at the sound of Giovanni's voice.

'The lady breathes, but I'm not sure about the wound on her head…'

'This man breathes too. He has a Roman's nose.' Zita's voice determined.

The Assassins moved towards the three not as outsiders, but as people who had overcome their fears of this strange, new and _impossible _thing with the intention of aid.

They moved as human beings.

They carried the three from their strange box as gently as they could, and shut the door behind them. In the quiet of night, they rode back towards the Tiber.

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><p>The problem of where to put the men while they recovered was a problem everyone worried over. The woman wasn't a problem – Zita had insisted that she have her hammock in the women's quarters and that she would sleep elsewhere. It was then pointed out by Giovanni himself that there was a spare bed in the men's quarters after the novice it had belonged to met a painful but swift end from Papal guards, so that was where the man with the nose went – a dead man's bed. Leonardo could not find any wounds that could have sent the man into his unconscious state, but he stirred often. It wouldn't be long before he awoke.<p>

And after the problem of the other and the most peculiar man had been discussed some more, Ezio had stated that he would give up his bed for him.

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><p>Consciousness came back to Amy like a reluctant and disobedient child – slowly and painfully. The first thing she knew was pain – her head throbbed with it, and it muddled her brain for a while as her thought processes sorted themselves out. Her senses came back slowly when she vaguely realised that the pain in her head wasn't the worst of her problems. Sound first – a crackle and a snap, probably a fire – and the murmur of voices. Touch – a blanket, a pillow under her head, and something pressed against her temple where the pain was worst. Smell – perfume and something nasty smelling that was probably medicinal. And then motion – rocking. She had to be on a hammock. It was making her feel sick.<p>

Conclusion? She wasn't in the TARDIS, and she didn't know where the hell she was.

Her eyes snapped open.

* * *

><p>'Ezio, you need to sleep.'<p>

'I've gone long enough without to wait a little longer.'

'Fine, fine,' Leonardo threw up his hands as he took a seat opposite Ezio. 'I should know by now that you only listen to reason when it suits you.' His words sounded serious, but his smile was not. Ezio smiled at him in return, and both men looked towards the man unconscious on his bed, marvelling out how out of place he looked. It wasn't that he was strangely dressed (All three of them were), but it was his very manner, even when unconscious that radiated awkwardness. They'd made him as comfortable as possible with his hands resting on his chest, but he seemed to be frowning as if in deep thought even in his unconscious state – perhaps they were misjudging it – maybe it was a look of pain, but however it stood, the man was a mystery.

And Ezio could safely say that no other had fascinated him more.

'Who _is _he?' Leonardo murmured, almost to himself.

'Who knows? This day has been strange enough for me to accept any explanation as the truth.' Ezio said, rubbing his face with his hand.

'Indeed. We have to tread carefully here.' Leonardo agreed. 'But there's something about him…' Leonardo pinched his chin as he appraised the sleeping man thoughtfully. 'Something _lost_, wouldn't you say?'

'Indeed.' Ezio agreed, reaching over to the table at his side and sipping the wine that Claudia had thoughtfully poured for him. _Dio _knew that he needed it.

'What did it _feel _like, Ezio?'

'How did what feel like?'

'When the box was calling to you! Are you sure that it wasn't him?' Leonardo jerked his thumb in the direction of the bed.

'No,' Ezio shook his head. 'When I touched the box I felt something…' Ezio struggled for the word.'_Familiare_. It _knew _me.'

'When it is light again, I will have another look inside that thing. It simply cannot exist, and yet, it does!'

Ezio smiled at Leonardo's enthusiasm. 'You don't mind this _paradosso_?'

'On the contrary, Ezio, it makes everything much more exciting,' Leonardo grinned, but as realization slammed into him, his eyes widened. '_Merda!_Ezio, I have to get back to the workshop before dawn, or I'll be missed by the Borgia guards!' He jumped to his feet, and Ezio followed him.

'Don't worry – La Volpe will be sure to organise a few of his thieves to accompany you on your journey back. If not, Machiavelli will fetch an Assassin for you.' Ezio said, holding up a hand. Relief was evident in Leonardo's face.

'Thank you. I forget my friends, sometimes.' He said, grinning.

'Be assured, we do not forget you.' Ezio returned, and embraced Leonardo knowing that it would be a while before he could again.

'Don't hesitate to send a pigeon when our guests wake up,' Leonardo said when they broke apart. 'I want to know _everything_! He snatched up the black cloak from his chair, and was buttoning it around his throat as he sped from the room. '_Arrivederci_, Ezio!'

'_Velocità__di __Dio_, Leonardo.' Ezio said as his door closed. He turned back to the sleeping stranger on his bed, and briefly wondered what he could tell them when he woke up as he picked up his goblet of wine, which he promptly dropped to the floor when an ear splitting scream sounded from down stairs. He bolted out of the door and slammed it behind him, just as the man began to mumble.

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><p><strong>Next phase up in a 'mo.<strong>


	31. Chapter Sixteen Phase Two

**This probably could've gone onto the end of the last phase, but oh well :L I'm getting back into the flow of writing this again pretty quickly after being busy with A-Levels, so expect some more updates soon. Thanks for reading :)**

_SOME QUICK TRANSLATIONS:  
><strong>Sciò!<strong>_- _Shoo!  
><em>**__Scozia - __**__Scotland__

* * *

><p>'Where the hell am I?'<p>

'_Signora_, if you'd just lay back a moment – '

'Get away from me!'

'We only mean to help –'

'Stuff your help!' Amy shrieked, clawing at the hands on her shoulders which belonged to a woman in white and red robes with a hood that had fallen from her face, revealing curly brown hair that framed a face with eyes wide with concern. Two men dressed like her pinned down her arms – they looked quite alike, but one had dark hair and the other light. They had burst into the room at the sound of Amy's scream, and the woman had shouted at them to hold her down.

Amy wasn't having any of it.

She screamed again, and struggled in their grip, kicking wildly. Upon realising that she probably needed to get out of there and find Rory or the Doctor (Preferably both) she'd sat up in her hammock very carefully, and when she had reached for the poker by the fireplace that she'd recognised as an impromptu weapon, the pain in her head became something dreadful and she'd fallen with a thump to the floor, stunned for a moment. But a moment was all it had taken for the woman to come running.

Amy didn't like to admit it, but she was afraid. She couldn't see or hear Rory or the Doctor anywhere – and it looked like she was alone. And that thought made her terrified. When she shouted at them to get off her, it was hard not to cry, even though she really would've liked to.

'What are you doing!' A voice demanded from the doorway. 'Get away from her!' The three people looked up at someone Amy couldn't see, and hesitated.

'You're terrifying the poor girl! _Sciò!_' The voice said again, and the pressure on Amy's shoulders and arms lifted as the three people stood up and the owner of the voice rushed forward – a man with a black cloak, hair that was once blonde but now streaked with grey and the kindest blue eyes Amy had ever seen. Before she could do anything, he was kneeling at her side, holding her hand and putting a hand to her forehead.

'_Signora_, you are quite safe here, I promise. I can imagine you're very afraid, no?'

Amy stared at him for a moment, and then found herself nodding, and her cheeks becoming wet as she finally started to cry.

'Now now, there's no need for that!' The man said kindly, wiping away the wet on her cheek with a gentle thumb and smiling at her. Amy, despite herself, smiled back at him. 'Now, nice and steady…' He said, gently tugging on her hand to help her sit up. She did so, wincing slightly at the pain in her head as she lifted it; the man's hand went to the back of her neck to help her, and she was soon upright, shifting backwards so her back was resting against the warm brick of the fire place.

'There we go. _Magnifico._' The man said brightly, and then barked over his shoulder. 'Vitorio, fetch me a wet cloth – cold, mind. Gabriele, a blanket for our guest. And Bianca, make her some hot wine. We shall take her upstairs. And do try _not_to stomp on the stairs, Ezio, its very loud.'

There had indeed been stomping on the wooden stairs – the sound of someone hurrying down them, and Amy had looked up and she saw something strange. It wasn't his general appearance – his red and white robes – or his face, which was, Amy deemed, very good looking, but it was the expression _under_his expression of alertness.

It was the expression of someone lost. Amy recognised it almost at once – behind his eyes, there was something looking for something he hadn't had in a long time, and whatever it was, he ached for it.

Amy thought she'd never see that hidden expression on anyone else in the universe but one.

As the three people dressed like him brushed past him in the doorway, they murmured something that sounded a lot like _Maestro_, or _Master _as the TARDIS automatically translated for her. So a man of authority then. But the one who held her hand addressed him as though he were his equal.

'What happened, Leonardo?' The man called Ezio asked.

'Our guest took a little tumble, that's all.' The man called Leonardo replied, smiling at Amy again. 'Now, do you remember your name, _Signora_?'

Amy took in a breath (Her throat was sore from all the shouting and screaming) 'Amy.' She croaked.

'Amy – what a peculiar name! But it has a nice ring to it. And your accent! A lass from the wilds of _Scozia_, no?'

Leonardo's manner was so warm and friendly that Amy was able to crack a joke. 'Aye.'

'But your Italian is so fluent!'

Amy only replied in a shrug – that'd be explained later.

The two men came back down the stairs – Ezio stood back to let them past, nodding at their respectful murmurs of _Maestro_.

'The blanket and the cloth, Leonardo.' One said, as they were both handed to him.

'_Eccellente_,' Leonardo said, pressing the cold cloth to Amy's head and motioning to her to hold it there as he draped the blanket around her shoulders. 'Come now,' He said to her, leaning over to wrap an arm around her waist to help her up. Amy winced as she stood, and found herself leaning into Leonardo for support. 'Upstairs we go!' He said brightly, guiding her up onto the stairs.

And as they passed him, Amy's eyes met Ezio's vey briefly – a shock of recognition of a kindred spirit who'd seen too much for their time alive was shared, and then gone in a moment.

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><p><strong>As I say, more updates to come. Please review - I may not reply but they mean so much. ^^ <strong>


	32. Chapter Seventeen

**ShaunxRebecca. I'm such a _whore _for it. Enjoy. :D**

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><p><em><span>16h of April, 2012. Scotland<span>_

McDonald had figured that the only way he'd be able to help Crane was to take a walk in the hub. He tried to do it with as much authority as he could muster, but every single worker knew that he had fuck all now that Vidic was lording it up in his old office. They raised their eyebrows at him as he skulked in the passages in between the rows, wondering what right he had to be there. _Let__ '__em __wonder_said the voice in McDonald's head, but he couldn't help but feel a little ashamed. He knew everyone in the room would happily line up to punch him in the face – especially the woman sitting on row twelve and on the third seat along from the end. He could feel her glare of pure hate burning into him as he neared her – he could feel himself sweating. He wondered briefly it was because of the abuse from the guards or from splitting her up from Hastings, but it didn't matter too much to him – he was too worried about her glare burning a hole in the space between his eyes to really think about it.

It was an effort to keep his eyes fixed on a spot ahead of him as he walked by her seat – out of the corner of his eye he could see her turn her head to glare at him some more – so she didn't noticed his fingers twitch from where they were laced behind his back and the piece of paper that fluttered down by her keyboard. She didn't notice the piece of paper until two minutes later when she deemed the range of her glare too limited to reach him anymore and looked back to her screen and saw the white square out of the corner of her eye. She frowned at it – it certainly hadn't been there before. She eyed her neighbours – they were both busy staring at their screens. She reached out for her mouse, moved it forward, hooked the square of paper with her little finger, tucked it into her palm, took her hand from the mouse to inconspicuously rub her nose where she dropped the paper on her lap and stuffed it quickly into her pocket in what she considered a move worthy of ninja status, let alone Assassin.

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><p>It was in the early hours of the next morning that Rebecca considered looking at the piece of paper again. There was a security camera in her sleeping cubicle (She felt almost special that hers was the only cubicle with one) and she knew that before one in the morning the guards watching her would change shift. In the darkness, she eyed the clock on the wall. At two minutes past one, she concluded that the first guard would be getting up so he could be relieved of duty by the second, she carefully wormed the piece of paper out of the waistband of her underwear (She'd never been given a set of pajamas, so it was either her undies or commando) and placed it under her blanket, just under the top. Moving carefully, she unfolded it, placed the hand she'd used to do so on the pillow, rested her cheek there and bowed her head so to any security guard watching her, it looked like she was sleeping soundly. And with years spent staring at screens in the dark plus Assassin training to tune her eyes, Rebecca read the words in the dark.<p>

_CRANE: _

_Bees ready flowers occasionally, reading hospitals at Columbia's kickboxing.  
>Username RecEptIonIst190.<em>

What the…?

Rebecca frowned at the note, and tried to think what Shaun would do when confronted of this weird-ass note. But before she could think anymore, memories of him tumbled out of her head and danced before her eyes to torture her.

She remembered the first time he'd held her hand. It was when Abstergo gaurds were chasing them up the corridor of their building in England and she'd dived in to save the day – he'd clung onto her hand in his own sweaty grip and whimpered in fear. He hadn't had a clue what he'd gotten himself into. She'd crushed on him from the start. Who knew – foreign guys did it for her. And over the years that followed, Rebecca Crane went and fell in love. The girl that the guys back at home had been afraid to go near went and fell in love with an English guy with a grudge against the entire world and all the brains you could amass into one skull.

If she could give herself a slow sarcastic clap, she would've.

And know she'd probably never see him again. The thought made her heart hurt.

She put it aside. It wouldn't go away, but she could cry herself to sleep another night. She frowned at the paper some more and thought for a while.

It was McDonald who'd dropped it at her computer.

McDonald had probably written it.

McDonald was also stupid.

Rebecca took the first letter from each word, and finding that didn't make sense, left the second as it was. (She concluded sourly that maybe McDonald wasn't _so_stupid) And what she got was this:

_B READY FOR HACK.  
>Username RecEpIonIst190.<em>

Well that was clear enough. Someone was going to hack her computer with the Username RecEpIonIst190.

_But why? _

She couldn't be in a situation that was worse than this one. She was trapped in a Templar organisation who's employees obviously saw a piñata whenever they looked at her and she'd never see the guy she loved again and he'd never know that she did. What the heck. Bring on the hack.

After carefully slipping the paper back to the waistband of her underwear, she clung on to the feel of what Shaun's unshaven face felt under he fingers when she'd reached up to touch his glasses, how his hand had felt when he had taken hers and that stupid _stupid _face of his as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

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><p><strong>MOAR UPDATES - DO YOU WANT THEM? Review, my darlings, review! <strong>


	33. Chapter Eighteen

**I FOUND A WONDERFUL FRIEND ON TUMBLR ALL THESE UPDATES ARE FOR HER. 3 **

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><p><em><span>March 17th, 1500. Rome<span>_

When Leonardo helped Amy up the last step with Ezio following them, Amy walked into what was clearly a room from the Renaissance. It was just the way it looked, and the atmosphere was literally buzzing with change. Amy remembered that the last time she'd been here it was in Venice – with water vampires.

She hoped to God that there weren't any here.

Leonardo helped her over to a chaise at the side of the grand room – Amy sunk into it gratefully, still holding the cloth to her head and clutching the blanket around herself with her spare hand.

'Can I see that for just a moment?' Leonardo asked, guiding the hand that held the cloth to her head away – Amy winced as the air hit the wound. 'It does look nasty, but it's just superficial. No long term damage – you'll be back to normal within a few days. Although I think you'll agree that _normal_isn't in your vocabulary?'

'It hasn't been for a _long _time.' Amy agreed, smiling quietly. Leonardo smiled back, and placed the cloth back in its place. She turned to the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room – the woman who had been holding her down earlier – Bianca – was bringing over a chair and a goblet of something that steamed pleasantly.

'For you, _Signora_,' she said to Amy, handing her the goblet, which turned out to have the hot wine Leonardo had ordered. 'Forgive my earlier actions – you gave us quite a scare!'

'It's fine, honestly.' Amy said, although the thumping in her head told her it wasn't. Bianca smiled, and then turned to Ezio. 'A chair for you, _Maestro_.'

'_Grazie_,' Ezio said, taking the chair from her, placing it opposite Amy and sitting there with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands laced together and looked at Amy again. She looked away, uncomfortable all of a sudden.

'Ah, Bianca! Just the woman I need!' Leonardo said, clapping his hands together. 'I don't suppose you could accompany an old man back to his prison? Only if I'm not back soon the Borgia guards will notice my absence.'

'Wait, the Borgia?' Amy asked, looking up at him. 'The one with his sister?'

'Well that's the first I've heard it put.' Ezio remarked, smiling slightly.

'And you're _working _for them?' Amy asked incredulously.

'Against my will, I'm afraid,' Leonardo sighed. 'It is a bother when your employer threatens to kill you if you don't build him his machines.'

'Machines?'

'_Sì! _I am an engineer as well as a doctor. Oh, and an artist as well, although I have had such little time for that recently…'

Amy took a look at Leonardo.

A good, long look.

'Are you Leonardo Da Vinci?'

'Why, of course!'

There was a gurgling sound.

'Amy, are you alright?'

Amy choked on the wine she'd snorted. 'Just dandy!' She said airily, waving her hand as she took another sip. 'Great wine, by the way.' She said to Bianca, who beamed.

Leonardo took a moment to frown at Amy, before turning to Bianca again. 'Well, will you?'

Bianca bowed. 'Happy to, _Signore_.'

'Excellent! Amy, I bid you a swift recovery, and a wish that we may meet again soon.'

'You're leaving?' Amy asked, suddenly scared again. Leonardo represented safety, and believe it or not, she wanted that right now.

'I am indeed, but I am sure another will visit me in the middle of the night to bring me on another adventure.' Leonardo sighed again. 'I do not know how much an old man can take.'

'Stop complaining and design something useful – like a stick to help you walk.' Ezio suggested, smiling quietly.

Leonardo ignored him and addressed Amy instead. 'Pah. He doesn't know what he's talking about – back in _Venezia_, I had to leave my window open every night for him to stagger into with an arrow in his leg.' He grinned, but then looked serious. 'I really must go. But I'll be back, you have my word.' He bowed to Amy, and as he walked away, grasped hands with Ezio has he passed him. '_Arrivederci!_' He called over his shoulder as Bianca followed him out and shut the door behind him.

The awkward silence fell on the room like a damp cloth on a candle. While Ezio did nothing but look, Amy busied herself with her hot wine, resisting the urge to look up and meet his eye.

'Stop looking at me like that.' She snapped suddenly. Ezio raised an eyebrow.

'Like what?'

'Like – like _that_.'

'I can hardly stop if I don't know what I'm doing.'

'You're looking at me like…I dunno…like you're sizing me up.'

'Sizing you up…?'

Amy rolled her eyes and huffed. 'What year is this?'

'1500?'

'_Right_. Okay. You're looking at me like you're sizing me up for…the chopping block! Aha! I can do this,' She congratulated herself, taking another sip of the wine. Not surprisingly, it'd gone straight to her head.

Ezio frowned. 'I'm looking at you like I'm about to kill you?'

'_Exactly!_'

Ezio reasoned that this fact wasn't exactly new. It was slightly disturbing, though, to know that he had been looking at people like this. He supposed it was an instinct he'd developed – his eyes falling on a random face in a crowd of innocents and subconsciously calculating the best move to stop the owner's heart.

He pushed the thought aside. 'I have so many questions.' He admitted.

'I bet you do.'

'My entire understanding of the world's been altered tonight. I think I have the right to answers.'

'Look, buddy, I've got questions too,' Amy hissed, suddenly angry at his demand. 'Like – _where __the __hell __am __I? _And – _where __have __you __hidden __my __husband __and __my __best __friend?_'

'Your husband?'

'_Amy!_'

The shout came from the opposite side of the room – Amy's head snapped up at the sound of her name and Ezio jumped to his feet. There in the doorway was the man with the nose, fighting the grip of La Volpe and Bartolomeo, each holding an arm as he struggled forward.

'Rory!'

Ezio turned to see Amy get to her feet very slowly, holding the cloth to her head as her world lurched around her. Ezio turned back and held up his hand.

'Let him go! He's her husband!'

He didn't see the wedding bands around their fingers – he didn't need to. The fierce flame in the man's eye, the indication of the kick of adrenaline around his veins as he subconsciously geared up to protect that one woman from any danger – _that _was how Ezio knew.

He himself had such a flame in his eye for another once.

La Volpe and Bartolomeo hesitated for a moment before letting go. The man called Rory threw himself across the room, pushed past Ezio like he wasn't there and had his arms around Amy, questions tumbling from him like boulders down a landslide.

'Are you alright?'

'Fine, I'm fine,' Amy snapped at him – although it was clear she was pleased to see him.

'Where are we? Where's the Doctor!' Where the questions that came next, but it was the latter that was answered by the creak of carefully placed boots on the stairs. Ezio wheeled around to see the man they had placed on his bed emerge, holding his head and looking angry at them all and Ezio knew in that very single instant that this was the man Zara had spoken of back in the hillside, without a shadow of a doubt.

The man in his blue box.

_La __tempesta __in __arrivo._

_Il __Dottore__._

And what he said was this:

'Listen you lot, I've got a _massive _headache right now and I'm not in the mood for any shouting, so who's going to tell me what the _hell _is going on first?'

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><p><strong>This chapter isn't very good, I know. MOAR UPDATES TONIGHT. <strong>


	34. Chapter Nineteen

**Oh McDonald, you. **

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><p><em><span>17h of April, 2012. Scotland<span>_

They had agreed to meet in the early hours of the morning before travelling to work in separate directions and as strangers. McDonald had waited outside her apartment block, with his hands thrust deep in his coat pockets while he stamped his feet to keep warm, burying his face in the scarf around his neck. He'd been pleased to see her when she emerged – even though she was using a disguise of a layer of makeup and her dyed hair pulled back in some fancy style, McDonald had felt something inside him grow warmer at the sight of her.

'Do you remember the plan?' She'd asked, and when McDonald had confirmed he did so, he wasn't lying. He had wondered around his apartment the night before reciting everything – while he watched telly, while he cracked open a beer, while he brushed his teeth, and the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was The Plan.

'Good,' she'd said. 'Meet me at the high street after work. We'll decide what happens next then.' And then, _then _she had pecked him on the cheek before striding brusquely away to get out of the cold, not looking back. McDonald cheek had been warm where her lips had lingered, and he'd found his hand brushing the spot of skin without his knowledge. He'd stuffed his treacherous hand back in his pocket and then took the long way to work.

And now he was standing by the printer in his office. It had been dusty, but it still turned on and was faithfully chugging out the email from TORCHWOOD HQ – the email crafted by the Assassins.

He rubbed his face with his hand. _Bloody __hell. __If __I __fuck __this __up, __then __it__'__s __not __just __me __looking __at __the __inside __of __an __Abstergo __prison. _He knew where Lucy Stillman was being kept – he'd _put _her there, and despite the immense guilt he now felt for it, he didn't want anything to do with it.

The last page came out, and the printer put itself on standby with a hum. McDonald reached out and took the papers – one with his email and the other from HQ. Two pieces of paper, and one fucked up situation.

_Christ. _

He steeled himself.

_You can do this. You're being watched, remember? The Assassins'll jump out of a plant pot and stab anyone who's a threat. _

Strangely enough, it wasn't a comforting thought. He folded up the papers, put them in the pocket of his uniform, opened the door to his office and walked out into the corridor. It was silent, and so his footsteps seemed louder than he actually were. He was going bonkers, he was sure of it.

He approached his old office – Vidic's office. Through the frosted glass, he could see dim figures – two, blocking his view of the desk. _Hmm._

Well, it was now or never.

Actually, he didn't really have a choice. It was now or _get __the __fuck __on __with __it_.

With a hesitant hand, he knocked on the glass. The muffled conversation in the office fell silent at once, and then; a clear shout of authority sounded.

'Enter!'

McDonald's stomach attempted to crawl out of his throat. _Oh __Christ._

His hand fell to the doorknob, and he opened it, and found himself under the stare of two men clad in black leather and motorcycle helmets. He didn't know how they were staring at him, but mother of Christ were they staring. Hard.

_Does my day get any weirder, or is this it? _

Vidic cleared his throat pointedly, and McDonald's eyes snapped from the men to him.

'Oh. Uhm, sir – news from HQ. About the funds.'

Vidic's eyes suddenly glittered. 'I'll call you later.' He said to the two men, and waved them out of the office. Their leather gear creaked as they shoved past McDonald, who teetered on the spot, unable to stop staring at them – and they shut the door behind them.

'Well, McDonald?'

McDonald snapped out of it.

'Oh, yeah. Uhrm, I emailed HQ, said something about the faults in our network system and all that stuff before your lot came in and fixed everything. They won't grant the funding for everything, but, uh, there's a lot they will.' He offered the papers to Vidic, who took them from him and read them through. McDonald hoped to God that Vidic couldn't see him sweating.

'Very clever, McDonald. It was a good thing you didn't report all this before as faulty.'

'Yeah, well, not many aliens take a fancy to Scotland,' _Unlike __you._'You should see the Welsh records – they're overrun with 'em.'

'Indeed.' Vidic said. 'It's a very tidy sum they've arrived to, isn't it? And that further just-in-case million is awfully convenient, don't you think?'

McDonald felt his feet freeze to the floor as adrenaline poured down his legs in terror. _Shit. __Shit shit shit fuck._

_LIE. _

'Oh uhm, yeah. Yeah, I thought so too, but there you go.'

_Well, you might as well shout at him that it's from the Assassins and the receptionist's got a missing finger. _

Vidic's gaze rested on him for a moment too long. It took all of McDonald's will power to keep staring back.

'Hmm,' Vidic finally said. 'Very well. Let me know when the funding's in the account.' He made a dismissive wave – McDonald nodded and bowed himself out of his old office, closing the door behind him.

He practically ran up the corridor and threw himself back in his old office, where he took a bottle of brandy hidden his bag and chugged back as much as humanly possible without drowning in it.

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><p><strong>Drink is never the answer, children. Review! :D <strong>


	35. Chapter Twenty

**This is ridiculously short, I know. BUT let me make it up to you with another update after this one. :D And thank you for all the amazing reviews I've been getting recently! They've just been making my life, thank you, seriously. :) **

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><p><em><span>March 18th, 1500. Rome.<span>_

The Doctor's demand had been left with silence. He strode into the room and stepped right up to Ezio, who was surprised, but stood his ground.

'You – you look important, what with the hood and the being tall and something about the dark stranger about you. You've got authority, you tell me what's happening.'

Ezio opened his mouth to speak, but the Doctor waved him away. 'No, don't tell me, because I know what's going on here – I'm not on my TARDIS anymore, and the last thing I remember was being there, so someone dragged me out of it. Was it you?'

Ezio held up his hands. 'We had a very good reason, _Signore_. If you'll just let us explain what happened – '

'I _know_what happened, we crash landed after being dragged into a merry cowboy DNA yee-ha and bouncing back through time on one single strand of DNA my TARDIS recognised and now we're here in – ' Here he checked his watch. 'Sixteenth century Rome in what looks to be some sort of underground base, no windows, see – ' He spun his finger around the room as if to confirm his deduction to be correct. '_This_much I know, but what I want to know is _why_. Can you tell me that?'

The Doctor and Ezio stared at each other.

'No, alright then. In which case – '

'Your box called to me.'

The Doctor turned around very slowly from where he had turned to face Amy and Rory, and looked at Ezio very carefully. Ezio met the man's eye. Well, he presumed him to be a man. Secretly, he wasn't so sure.

'What?'

'Your box. It was calling to me before it materialised. I felt it pulling me forward, and I had to follow it before it killed me.'

The Doctor was suddenly very quiet. 'And how did it feel like?'

'Like every single particle in my body – '

'Was tearing you apart.' The Doctor finished.

All eyes were on Ezio and the Doctor. Nobody dared even breathe. The Doctor approached Ezio again until they were standing a little way apart.

'Is this the Assassin Brotherhood?'

'_Sì._'

'And you are?'

'Ezio Auditore Da Firenze.'

The Doctor tilted his head. 'Tell me, Ezio, do you have a wife?'

Ezio, looking puzzled, shook his head.

'Well, Ezio, I suggest you get your family tree out. A descendant of yours is in a lot of trouble.'

There were footsteps behind them all – they turned, and found Machiavelli standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back.

'I always did say that an unwise man sows his seed where he cannot find it later.' He stated, and his eyebrow lifted approximately one millimetre above the average human eyebrow lifting capability, making him look very wise indeed.

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><p><strong><em>Questo è quello che ha detto!<em>**

**You go put that into a translator. ;) Another update to come tonight guys! :D **


	36. Chapter Twenty One

**Here's the promised update. Enjoy! :) **

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><p><em><span>19th of April, 2012. Scotland.<span>_

Shaun was experiencing something rare – a tea break. It was unfortunate that he could no longer stand the stuff after pouring into teacups for the biggest arseholes on the planet - so instead he poured himself black coffee and practically inhaled the liquid in case a high ranking employee happened to look into the grotty little tea room that was frequented only by the staff who basically served as keyboard fodder. It wasn't likely, but Shaun wasn't ready to take the chance. He just needed to stop _moving _for a while – to stand still and collect the thoughts that hadn't had the chance to flow properly and had stacked up in the back of his head like the leaflets stuffed in the letter box and littered all over the floor of the house that hadn't been lived in years.

Luckily, the official lunch wasn't for another quarter of an hour, so Shaun forced himself to drink his coffee slowly and ground himself again. The room was nasty and unclean – the wallpaper was peeling, the mugs were dirty, and Shaun was sure that the coffee and tea machine was around before he was even thought of, let alone conceived. And he wasn't even going to think about what looked like milk lurking in the jug, which was busy growing its own ecosystem.

Right.

This is what he knew:

_He was the captive of the Templars – and as an Assassin, this wasn't the best of predicaments. _

_After being beaten into an inch of life, he was forced into what had to be the most humiliating job of his life so far. And he wasn't even being paid. _

_He had almost escaped with Rebecca, but they'd run into the biggest Templar of them all – Warren Vidic – and thrown into a prison that almost caved in on them later on and he was dragged away from her in cuffs, pretty sure he'd never see her again._

He stopped there – his heart was in his throat and the coffee couldn't get past it. He forced himself to move on.

_And he'd been given a note and a snatch of hope by the guy he hated most in the world who he'd never trust for all the tea in china and wouldn't even consider spitting on him if he were on fire. _

His conclusion was this: _I __have __no __hope __whatsoever._

With Desmond in the Animus with no hope of ever coming out and Lucy probably locked up somewhere else in the building, he had no hope of building an effective plan to get all them out of there. And the guards, he was sure, wouldn't let him anywhere near Rebecca if they could help it.

_Rebecca. _

His throat constricted. _God__damn __her._

Shaun knew very well that any sane human being couldn't give over their physical beating heart to another, but he would give over this mythical metaphor of a representation of what he felt about her to her if she ever wanted it. Although that in itself was an unlikely thing to happen – he'd probably never see her again.

Did the Order know that they were trapped here? Shaun had the uneasy feeling that they did know – but they just weren't doing anything about it.

Shaun had never felt more hopeless in his life. It was a hollow feeling – like all that he was had been sucked out of him, just leaving a Shaun shaped shell.

He took a sip of his coffee, and at the same time remembered he hated the stuff.

A second later, the door opened, and he jumped out of his skin, staring with wide eyes at a puzzled looking woman in the doorway. Shaun, after calming down slightly, noted that she was probably reasonably pretty under all that makeup and that her roots needed a bit of touching up – there was brunette under the blonde. She was smartly dressed too – so not keyboard fodder.

Oh shit.

'I'll put the coffee back and get to work – '

'What're you on about?' The woman asked, her accent Scottish through and through. 'I'm not gonna' shoot 'ya! You drink the rest of your coffee, I just came in for one myself.'

'Oh.' Shaun was taken aback. 'Thank you. Thank you very much.'

'Nah, its no problem. I've seen the way that McDonald scumbag treats you.' She walked past him and left the scent of perfume in her wake – she pulled a face when she inspected the milk. 'I think I'll have my coffee black.' She muttered, and reached for a mug, and she pulled a face again. 'Actually, I'm not _that_ thirsty. I don't even like coffee that much anyway.'

Shaun smiled nervously. 'Same, really. I'm just, uh, sick of tea.'

She smiled sympathetically. 'I can imagine, poor love.' She reached out and touched his arm – and it was then Shaun noticed something very strange.

She had a missing finger on her right hand – and when he looked up and met her eye, she was giving him a very serious look.

His eyes widened.

'I'm the receptionist. I think you have something to ask me.' She whispered – but not in a Scottish accent – a pristine and wonderful one that suggested a life time time of private education and surrounding oneself with books for all of one's adult life. And best of all, it was a _Cambridge _one. Shaun would've cried, if he wasn't so shocked. His eyes widened.

'Its _you_– '

'Shhh!' She whispered, her eyes widening. 'You mustn't let on!'

'But – but is help on the way? Are _they _coming to get us out? To be frank, I've wondered what you lot were doing about it – '

'Yes, help _is _on the way! It'll just be a while getting here, that's all.'

'Oh that's – wait, how can I even trust you? You could just be some sneaky Templar trap!' Shaun hissed, backing away from her.

'Do you want to take that risk?' The receptionist hissed back at him. 'Reject my help if you want, but it won't help your situation one bit. Or Miles', or Stillman's, or Crane's.'

Shaun didn't say anything. It seemed to him that the possibility of escape was dangling in front of him like a worm that seemed to have a string growing out of its back.

'There're things going on in this place that you don't know about. This isn't just using Miles' DNA to track down the POE, this is about something much bigger. If you want out of here alive, you _have _to trust me.'

What did he have to loose, really, that he hadn't already lost?

He took a deep breath. 'Alright,' He said. 'What's the plan?'

'Nothing solid yet. I've got a worker in on the plan now. He'll let you know when to come back here.'

'Its McDonald, isn't it?'

'I can't say anything – '

'It's McDonald.'

The receptionist glared at him. 'Alright, it's him.'

'You can't trust him!'

'He's all I have! And if _he _doesn't do as I say, he's in a lot of trouble himself. He's trustworthy for now.'

Shaun looked decidedly sceptical.

'Don't give me that look.'

'You _know _you can't trust him.'

'Just leave it now, Hastings. Get back to work. He'll contact you soon.'

'How soon is _soon?_'

The lunch bell went, and it made them both jump.

'Go, just go!' She hissed as footsteps sounded outside. Shaun took his cue and hurried out just as the workers poured in, and the receptionist was left to weave her way through clumps of people, making no secret of her feelings about it.

'Mind you don't step on me, yer' daft bugger!'

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><p><strong>Review! :) <strong>


	37. Chapter Twenty Two Phase One

**I just want to apologise for something here in advance – this chapter sort of struggled into life when my long term relationship fell apart. My writing here's probably distracted, nervous and most probably lacking, so I just want to apologise for any changes in quality. Don't worry about me now, I'm with someone I've wanted to be with for a very long time now, and frankly everything is _very molto bene. _Anyway, on with the show! :D**

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><p><em><span>March 18th, 1500. Rome.<span>_

The candle light flickered in the draft floating through Machiavelli's office, and it cast shadows on the walls and on all the faces of those seated around his desk. The man himself and Ezio Auditore sat behind it. Machiavelli was as calm as a man could ever be when faced with the impossible and the unbelievable, but Ezio fidgeted subtly, restless. His fingers tapped the desk, he shifted in his chair, and he fingered the designs on his braces as though they might bring him comfort. Learning that a descendant of his – someone of his flesh and blood who he hadn't planned on creating – was in trouble in the future was something his mind refused to comprehend. It suggested that these people – Amy, Rory and the Doctor, were something he couldn't believe – they didn't even seem human to him. And despite it all, his curiosity was razor sharp. But he wasn't about to show it. So he quietly resolved to sit and to watch. Bartolomeo, La Volpe and Claudia were present too on the Assassin side of the desk, their distrust overwhelmingly evident.

On the other side sat the impossible strangers. Amy seemed better – she looked more alert and much more annoyed than ever before. Rory shifted anxiously, looking around him, and the Doctor – the _Doctor_sat and looked at them all, meeting all their eyes and determining just what worth they were made of.

Niccolò Machiavelli had decided before hand that he wasn't having any of it.

'As I am sure you're aware, we are faced with an impossible situation. And you yourselves seem to have encountered trouble,' Machiavelli began, realizing that no one had wanted to speak first (Except maybe perhaps the Doctor man, who wore a subtle grin and looked amused by the whole situation) 'My aim is for all present in this office to leave knowing that they have the answers they desired, and a truce. We extend our help to you, if you so require it.'

'Well, that's very kind of you,' The Doctor said, and the grin was there for a second – confident and self assured – he rubbed his hands together. 'So who's going first then, hmm? Maybe you, Machiavelli, sir – can I just say, I'm a huge fan?'

'…Fan?'

'Admirer. You look different from your portraits though…'

Machiavelli frowned. 'I haven't sat for a portrait in almost fifteen years, not since I was a small boy.'

'Oh. Uhrm. Must've been an admirer's work, then.'

'I have had _admirers_paint me?'

'It's called fan art – '

'_If_we could get back to the subject at hand?' La Volpe said suddenly, looking quite agitated.

'Ah, yes, of course!' The Doctor said. 'So, who's first?'

'I am.' Bartolomeo stabbed the table with his finger, and eyed the Doctor. 'Who are you?'

'Ah, that's actually a really complicated question and is probably best answered when the whole of time and space isn't threatening to collapse. Next?'

'Wait, time and space?' Machiavelli demanded, waving down Bartolomeo's retort. 'You are saying that your situation threatens existence as we know it?'

'If you want to summarise it, then yes, absolutely.'

'Then why should we help you, when all that we hold dear is at risk?' La Volpe demanded.

'This involves you lot as much as it does us. There's a reason why we ended up here, and its him,' The Doctor motioned to Ezio, who snapped out of trance like state he'd seemed to be in and looked up at the sound of his name. 'My TARDIS – my box, was drained of all her energy and in an automatic response, latched onto the nearest recognisable source of DNA that wasn't in the TARDIS already and landed _here_, in front of him. That means that the Templars are using a source of DNA not identical to Ezio's, but very close. A direct descendant.'

'When mother finds out, she'll kill you.' Claudia hissed to Ezio, who looked like he believed her utterly.

'And, using my DNA and the DNA of this descendant of Ezio's, they trapped my TARDIS in a ring of energy and attempted to drag us down into their base. But something happened with whoever the descendant is – he or she broke through of whatever was holding their mind in suspension and cancelled the energy pull. But there's a big hole in the fabric of time right now, and I don't have to tell you that that isn't good news.'

'It doesn't sound it.' Machiavelli agreed.

'And, until I can figure out what's wrong with the TARDIS, we're stuck here. Which is good news, actually, '

'Wait, TARDIS? You speak nonsense.' La Volpe said.

'TARDIS – Time And Relative Dimension In Space. As I say, it take more time than we have to explain, so just take my word for it.'

'You say _time_,' Machiavelli said slowly. 'Are we supposed to think…?'

'Time travel. Yes. Absolutely. We're time travellers.' The Doctor said with obvious relish before sitting back and letting a sloppy, smug grin slide over his face. Each of the Assassins considered a lot of things after hearing the Doctor say the worlds, but what was held at the forefront of their minds was the fact that a goddess had once reached out to one of their own, called out to a phantom figure and had spoken of grave times in the _future_.  
>When no one reacted to the Doctor's revelation, he scowled.<p>

'This is all just fantasy!' La Volpe said, throwing his arms wide. 'An invention – a trick! We don't even know your names – how can we tell that you're not Borgia spies!'

'Well, I'm the Doctor, she's Amy and he's Rory,' The Doctor replied, tilting his head either side to indicate each companion in turn. 'And don't call us names, its not nice.'

'We're not spies.' Rory added.

'And how can you prove otherwise?'

'By not being spies!' Rory's voice rose, and La Volpe grinned.

'I don't believe you.' He hissed, leaning forward across the desk. Rory, never one to be called a liar, rose to his feet.

'I don't care.' He growled.

'Rory, leave it!' Amy said, and Claudia raised an eyebrow.

'A woman who cannot keep her husband under control is hardly a woman at all.' She commented.

Amy turned to meet her very slowly.

'What was that?'

'Oh, nothing. Just an observation.'

'You better shut that pretty little mouth of yours, or I'll shut it for you.'

'Ha! You really think so?'

The two arguments reached shouting point. Bartolomeo, slightly intimidated by the row Claudia and Amy were causing, jumped to La Volpe's aid and roared down Rory's shouts while Machiavelli stood and attempted to calm all of them down. There were only two people in the room who weren't making any movement at all, and both were watching each other. The Doctor had noticed long ago that Ezio had been staring at him with eyes that weren't his – he could tell – they were golden. And Ezio had noticed long ago that he couldn't determine whether or not the Doctor and his companions were friend or foe.

Ezio had long since trusted the colours he saw more than everything else in the world. Simple, normal, colours. Blue – allies. Red – enemies. Gold – importance. White – a place to hide.

But the impossible strangers were like a rainbow of intentions – flickering between all four states at rapid speed. His eyes ached to look at them all, and the fact that he was less assured of their intentions than ever before agitated him beyond belief. He grimaced as he let himself slip back into focus again, and the shouts and yells hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face. He grimaced as he squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, he found the Doctor staring straight at him.

He'd seen.

For a moment, Ezio froze in indecision, like a cat that's been spooked by a loud noise, but then the Doctor tilted his head and eyed the door. Ezio eyed his friends and the Doctor's companions – all were absorbed in the makings of a small domestic war, and so he tipped his head in response.

Both men quietly got up and went out the nearest doors.

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><p><strong>Next phase up tonight! Needs some tweaking first, but SOON. <strong>


	38. Chapter Twenty Two Phase Two

Ezio emerged from the hideout at street level, and was surprised to find that the Doctor wasn't there already. He was sure the door the Doctor'd taken would've almost taken him straight outside. Puzzled, he stepped out, and the rising sun hit him in the face, making him squint a moment before he adjusted to it, and when he did he saw something no man ever wants to see. A shadow on the roof right behind him.

Ezio wheeled around and was instantly blinded again by the sun, but what he saw briefly was startling – the figure on the roof was waving at him.

'What're you doing down there? Get a move on!'

The Doctor had found the route onto the roof. Out of all the routes he could have taken, he chose the one on the roof.

_Merda. _

Well, there was one thing for it. He walked over to the brick work, found the route that was rough and familiar under his fingertips, and began to climb, his feet falling into place as his hands sought out the holds he knew were there. In hardly any time at all, his fingers found the edge of the roof, and as he looked up to haul himself over, he saw a hand stretched towards him.

'_Grazie_,' Ezio murmured in surprise, and allowed the Doctor to help him up onto the roof. The sun wasn't as blinding as it was down on the street – it threw a rose colour onto _Roma _and the view from here, Ezio had to admit, was breath taking. You could see the whole of the city – everything from the _Vaticano_to the _Colosseo_. And, as he watched the grin slowly spread over the Doctor's face, gathered he found it all to his satisfaction too.

'Look at that!' He said, throwing his arms out. 'There it is – Rome, in all its glory. Nowhere better. Well, there are several places better, but Rome is in the top ten. Not the top five, but top ten. Nothing wrong with the top ten.'

Ezio stepped forward and looked at _Roma _with him. 'You say a descendant of mine is in trouble?'

'Quite a lot of trouble.'

'And as I understand it, you are the expert in time travel here.'

The Doctor was silent for a moment as he turned the statement over in his head. 'Well, some people have called me a _lord _of time, but I don't like to brag.'

'Mm.' Ezio's eyes shifted from the view to the Doctor, considering the words he was about to say next. 'I cannot put this in any other way – there have been many women, Doctor – mostly in my youth. Could anything be done about preventing myself from…you know.'

The Doctor let the awkwardness slip away with its tail in between its legs. 'Nah, nothing to be done about it. For all we know, your descendant could come from a child you have in the future.'

'True, although knowing that my unwise actions can endanger those even in the future will stop me from being so foolish.'

The Doctor eyed him, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. 'Perhaps.' He agreed after a while, and then: 'Something important is happening here. Something very big and very, _very _wrong.'

'Can anything be done?'

'Only if we all decide to work together. There's a reason why my TARDIS chose here to land, chose your DNA to home onto. It's all just a matter of figuring out what it is, and what those Templars're up to.'

'You speak of this TARDIS as though it were a living thing.'

'Oh, _she _is. Like you wouldn't believe.'

'That would make sense…'

'Sorry?'

'Your TARDIS. The only reason we got inside was that the door opened for me. I thought it strange – the only occupants seemed to be Amy, Rory and yourself, and all three of you were out cold.'

The Doctor had a strange look about him. If one didn't know him better, you may have deemed him dumbstruck.

'Doctor?'

The strange man turned slowly to look at Ezio with the most curious look on his face. 'That…that is quite interesting, but we have more important stuff to be getting on with.' He then strode past Ezio and to the door on the roof. 'First of which being ensuring that everyone gets along for a little bit longer. You coming?'

Ezio stared blankly at him. 'It's nothing to be concerned about?'

'Not at all. Come on, get a move on.'

Ezio didn't believe him, not for a moment, but he shrugged and walked through the door the Doctor had opened.

'_OH__ – _something I meant to ask you…'

'Yes?'

'That thing with the eyes,' The Doctor said as Ezio turned back, pointing two fingers at his own eyes and then motioning at Ezio's. 'What _was _that?'

'A gift I've had since I was a child. With it, I see the intentions of people. It is good to know who is friend and who is foe.'

'Really?' The Doctor seemed fascinated. 'So what're mine?'

Ezio couldn't help it – the automatic response was to let himself slip out of focus to catch a glimpse of the Doctor's glow, but he sensed those old eyes narrowing on him suddenly, and he forced himself to snap back into reality. Taking in that fiercely interested look and the rainbow of intentions he'd seen time and time again, Ezio reasoned that it was probably best to give the man what he wanted to hear.

'I believe you to be a friend, Doctor,' He said respectfully, watching the man carefully.

'And I shall be your best friend, Ezio,' The Doctor beamed, and as Ezio walked inside the Doctor patted him on the shoulder before making to follow him, but he took the smallest of moments to eye the sky, as if he could see the fabric that made up the universe unravelling in the dawn, before walking through the door and shutting it behind him.

When Ezio and the Doctor walked back into Machiavelli's office, the shouts hadn't relented – Amy and Claudia were nose to nose across the table screaming in each other's faces, La Volpe, Bartolomeo and Rory were gesturing wildly and trying to roar each other out, while Machiavelli had given up and sat rigidly in his chair, sipping his wine and wincing when the shouts reached subsonic levels occasionally.

'Oi, you lot! Listen!'

The Doctor was ignored, and as if he thought it'd make himself heard, he stood up on his toes and cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again. 'OI!'

It did nothing. Ezio rolled his eyes behind him, raised his fingers to his lips and whistled a whistle so harsh that Machiavelli started violently and spilt wine all over the papers on his desk. The room fell silent at once, save for the dark mutter of '_Cazzo!_' from Machiavelli as he fought to save his papers, which were greedily sucking up the spilt drink. Save from him, everyone stared at them both. The Doctor threw out his chest and gave Ezio a cursory nod over his shoulder – Ezio shrugged and smiled quietly before the Doctor turned back to the occupants of the office and placing both hands on the desk.

'Right, you lot, listen,' He said. 'We need to work together – not just for our own sakes but for everyone else who's existed and will exist _ever_. And you seem like a clever bunch of people so I reckon you've got a good sense of numbers – can anyone tell me how many people that is? No, of course you can't, the numbers _infinite_. So I suggest that we all pack it in and make a go of getting along long enough until we sort this out. Who's with me? And don't raise your hand, Rory.'

Rory lowered his hand and looked a little miffed. There was a small silence in the room before Machiavelli got to his feet.

'I am.'

'Good man.' The Doctor grinned and shook the hand Machiavelli offered. 'Anyone else?'

There was another silence before Claudia stood. 'I am.'

'Good ma – girl.' The Doctor managed to correct himself before giving Claudia a chance to go for his throat. 'Now, kiss and make up with Amy.'

'No thanks,' Amy stated airily – Claudia glared at her and stuck out her hand stubbornly.

'_Pond._'

Amy managed defiance for ten seconds, at which point the Doctor raised his eyebrows with a _look, __I__'__m __being __serious_ look.

'_Fine._' She hissed, shook Claudia's hand briefly and then snatched her hand back, folding her arms and looking cross.

'Fella's?' The Doctor turned to La Volpe and Bartolomeo, who were still looking at him with distrust. Nothing was said until Ezio stepped forwards.

'When we found the box – the TARDIS – I recognized you as my brothers and in turn you gave me your word that you would follow me to hell and back. I ask of you now, as a brother, to trust the Doctor, as I have come to trust him utterly tonight.'

La Volpe and Bartolomeo eyed each other for the other's reactions for a moment, before Bartolomeo reached out and offered the Doctor his gloved hand.

'I trust Ezio's judgement. If you falter for a moment, I promise you will regret it.'

The Doctor nodded and shook his hand firmly before all eyes fell on La Volpe. His fists clenched at his sides, and it was clear that something inside him cried out to flee from the threat of the unknown.

'Volpe,' Ezio said quietly. La Volpe started slightly at the use of his name. 'Please.'

There was a quiet moment before La Volpe finally offered the Doctor his hand, saying nothing at all. The Doctor took it and shook it briefly.

'Right, now that's out of the way, first thing's first!' The Doctor clapped his hands together as though that difficult moment had never happened. 'I need to get back into my TARDIS to have a look and see what the damage is – how far away is it?'

'Just across the river,' Machiavelli said. 'May I suggest that we return there tomorrow night? The dawn is here now and it would be best to operate under the cover of darkness.'

'But won't the box be seen?' Bartolomeo asked.

'The TARDIS can make itself unnoticeable.'

'How?'

'It's a really clever trick I'll explain later,' The Doctor said. 'And I don't suppose anyone knows someone who's clever enough to help me out a bit?'

Ezio smiled. 'I know the man you're looking for.' He said.

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><p><strong>LEONARDO AND THE DOCTOR?<br>LET THE FUN BEGIN.**

**So sorry for the wait guys, school has been such a bitch recently. But, a little more up to date now, expect moar posts soon! ~ **


	39. Chapter Twenty Three

**Life was bene, and then it wasn't bene. Its getting better though. Kinda'. Eventually. :D BUTYES! This was in sore need of an update, so I thought that was what I'd do today! :) **

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><p><em><span>25th of April, 2012. Scotland<span>_

Rebecca was fairly sure she was going mad. Not the kind of mad where you insist that there's rabbits in your soup, but the kind of mad where you don't feel anything at all – not even hope. The boredom of the routine of sitting at her computer, staring at walls in her cubicle and being escorted to and fro was slowly beginning to gnaw away at her, wearing down all that she was. When she began to sense it, she tried to claw herself back, forcing herself to remember everything – the feel of a board and snow under her feet, Lucy's laugh, Desmond's quiet smile and Shaun, _Shaun_, all that _he_ was, especially the way his face had felt under her hand. But she lost her grasp of even him soon enough – him, Lucy and Desmond, all of them – they faded away until they seemed like an amazing dream she'd had long ago that she couldn't quite remember. All she knew now was the flickering screen and the want for sleep as she hid under her blankets each night. She hadn't heard from the mysterious RecEptIonIst190, and she'd concluded that it was just some sick joke of McDonald's – to get her hopes up and drop them again. So when the chat bar popped up on her screen just past noon, she thought she was dreaming.

_RecEptIonIst190: Don't react. Keep working. _

It wasn't much effort for Rebecca to keep her expressions passive; she couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled. She wasn't sure what to think – a dream, a sick joke, a trap, or something genuine? Well, to play along wouldn't hurt. She typed as though she were typing DNA codes:

_WoRkEr: l00k, i d0nt c4re w0t u r, or w0t ur g4me 1s, im ju5t 5ick 0f th1s and 1 w4nt 0ut. _

She hit enter, and continued working Desmond's DNA with a blank expression. Her reply popped up a moment later:

_RecEptIonIst190: I'm an Assassin working on the inside. I'm working with someone to get you, Miles, Stillman and Hastings out of here. You have to trust me. _

_WoRkEr: Y sh0uld i? _

_RecEptIonIst190: You have no hope of getting out of here if you don't. _

_WoRkEr: I h4vent h4d h0pe 4 a l0ng t1me. _

_RecEptIonIst190: Let me give it back to you. Give me a moment – _

Almost a minute went by, and Rebecca found it difficult to concentrate on Desmond's DNA. Did she have real, solid hope? Could she start believing in getting out of here alive? Her heart was already thumping at just the thought of it, and she was so engrossed in a dream of getting out alive that she didn't notice the doors at the end of the room twitching – the automatic lock seemed to have gotten stuck on itself again. The guard standing nearest to it rolled his eyes and swore, before heading over to nudge the door back into place. And as he got near it, it suddenly swung open wide and cracked straight into his nose. The guard howled in agony and staggered away, holding his nose – everyone started at the noise and watched as another guard led his moaning friend away, who was trying to keep the blood in his nose through the use of his sleeve. The chat updated itself in the corner of Rebecca's eye, and her attention snapped back towards it rapidly.

_RecEptIonIst190: I'm not a hacker of your standards, but I've got power here. With my help, you'll be out sooner than you know it. _

_WoRkEr: A1r1ight. Wh4t've u g0t p1anNed? _

_RecEptIonIst190: I have an agent on the inside working to get you and your colleagues out. He'll contact you soon with more details._

_WoRkEr: Ple4se d0n't teL1 mE its McD0n4alD. _

_WoRkEr: He1L0? _

_WoRkEr: Its McD0n4alD, isnt iT. _

_RecEptIonIst190: Look, he's the best I've got. If he doesn't do what I say, he's in a whole lot of trouble himself._

_WoRkEr: I w0uLdnt trUst h1m as f4r aS i c0uld thr0w h1m. _

_RecEptIonIst190: Just hang on in there. _

_WoRkEr: F1ne. U t4lked to Sh4Un 0r LUcY? _

_RecEptIonIst190: I won't be able to get near Stillman for a while. But Hastings has been contacted. _

_WoRkEr: C0u1lD u te11 h1m th4t i h0pe hE's d0inG 0K? _

_RecEptIonIst190: Of course. :) _

Rebecca's mysterious contact disappeared with the chat bar, leaving just Desmond's DNA twisting around itself on her screen with the codes blurring into nonsense around it. Rebecca had a warm feeling inside of her. She'd forgotten what hope felt like.

Suddenly, she remembered that Shaun's eyes were blue.

* * *

><p><strong>I'll get some more updates done over today. Aren't you lucky? Review, I'd love some nice words right now. :) <strong>


	40. Chapter Twenty Four

**Happy new year, all! Did everybody have a nice Christmas? I did - I got this spanking brand new laptop to which I only transferred the entirety of this fic to yesterday; that's my excuse for not posting :P Anyway, I know this is pretty long, and I was going to split it up into my normal phases but you guys deserve something big (AHEMAHEM) as a Christmas present and a Happy New Year's rolled into one! On with the show! :D **

* * *

><p><em><span>March 20<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

'Good morning, Doctor. Did you sleep well?'

'Me? No, of course I didn't. This is sixteenth century Rome, mattresses haven't been invented yet,' The Doctor replied, grabbing an apple from the table and bouncing it from the inside of his elbow to his palm before taking a bite. 'Besides, I don't sleep anyway because sleeping is for humans,' as he chewed on the apple, he eyed Machiavelli, inviting him wordlessly to a waltz of wit. Machiavelli smiled and just as wordlessly declined, dipping his head.

'You will get along well with Ezio, then. He was gone at first light to arrange safe passage here for our friend.'

'The clever one?'

'Indeed.'

'Ah, good! I do rather like meeting clever people.'

'Our friend is a very clever man indeed. Unfortunately, the Borgia know it too and see it fit to threaten deadly designs for war machines out of him. He plays a dangerous game, allying with us like he does.' Machiavelli said thoughtfully.

'What keeps him allied, then?' The Doctor frowned.

'An unwavering loyalty to Ezio and the Assassin cause,' Machiavelli explained. 'We would be truly lost without him.'

'Even Assassins need friends,' The Doctor said thoughtfully. '_So_ – the Borgia. What have they got to do with you lot?'

'To say that they have Templar sympathies would be an understatement,' Machiavelli said grimly, walking to stand by the Doctor and tactfully not commenting on that fact that the Doctor had propped his boots up on the armchair opposite his and left mud on the embroidery. 'Our Pope Alexander, known to us as Rodrigo Borgia, has been involved with the Templar Order most of his life and had infected his children with this deadly obsession – amongst other things.' He added pointedly, and the Doctor pulled a face, giving his apple a funny look as he tossed it over his shoulder, suddenly not in the mood for eating. 'His son, Cesare, now pulls the strings with his father supplying him with all the military powers he could ever ask for. We Assassins have had a hard time fighting him and his.'

'Ah, the infamous Cesare Borgia. The _master deceiver_ himself. A phrase I do believe you coined yourself?'

Machiavelli blinked. 'I – I did. However did you know?'

'Call it a lucky guess, Mr. Machiavelli. Your second name is too long, did you know that? You need a catchy nickname – something snappy,' The Doctor clicked his fingers as he began to rattle off names. 'Machy, Mach, Mach, Mach _daddio_. _Mach-daddy-velli!_' The Doctor jumped to his feet, and shook Machiavelli's slack hand. 'Good to meet you, Mach-daddy-velli!'

Machiavelli was lost for words, but was thankfully saved by Amy and Rory dragging themselves into the room and slumping onto furniture.

'Wake up Pond!' The Doctor said, bounding over and nudging Amy with his foot – her head turned in his direction so she could give him an exhausted glare. 'And you too, Rory!' Rory moaned as the Doctor grabbed his shoulder and shook him. 'Ezio's bringing me a friend to help me fix the TARDIS!'

'That's wonderful.' Rory said humourlessly.

'We're thrilled.' Amy adjourned.

'What's wrong with you two, then?'

'No sleep.' Rory said dully.

'None whatsoever,' Amy said, groaning and letting her head fall into her hands, her fingers fingering the cut on her temple. 'Such a headache…' she moaned quietly, and Rory patted her on the back while staring blankly into space. The Doctor wheeled around on Machiavelli.

'S'your lack of mattresses, that. You've broken my humans!'

'…I'm sorry?'

'I should hope so.' The Doctor pulled at the front of his jacket and frowned at Machiavelli, and then turned at the sound of the door opening. An Assassin stood there – a tall and strong looking man, with sleek black hair and a finely trimmed moustache on his upper lip. He bowed in Machiavelli's direction, who nodded in return, and then nodded at the Doctor.

'The _Maestro_ returns,' He announced to the room.

'Excellent. Thank you, Valentino. Have you any duties later? We may need an extra hand in bringing the Doctor's vessel here.'

The man called Valentino smiled, and it was a strange thing – it was almost as if his lips had never performed the action before. 'My evening is yours, _Signore._'

'Thank you.'

Valentino nodded once, and just as he pulled the door shut, his eyes flickered to the Doctor's again. The Doctor watched him back for a moment, rocking on his heels, until Valentino's eyes moved away with a strange expression as he closed the door.

'Odd one, that one…'  
>'Excuse Valentino, Doctor,' Machiavelli said. 'He's a man who likes to keep to himself; to ask him to be sociable is like asking a fish to fly.'<p>

'In my experience, its always the quiet ones you've got to worry about.'

Machiavelli opened his mouth to argue for Valentino when voices floated through the door, which had been left ajar.

'_Ezio, once all this is done, I'm thinking of doing something extraordinary. I shall study a woman with child, to see how her body changes. To see how life is formed – it shall be such a splendour to behold, Ezio!' _

Amy looked up, pleased to hear Leonardo's voice again, but then her face fell when she saw the Doctor look to the door eagerly.

It was going to be one of those moments where he was going to embarrass them all completely. When the Doctor met important figures in history, it was horrific to watch – a hardcore nerd meeting their heroes and babbling ceaselessly about how much of a fan they were and basically causing a lot of cringing and pity for the poor playwright or thinker hit by a gushing whirlwind in a nice shade of tweed.

And Leonardo DaVinci was _the _figure. The top dog.

This was not going to end well.

'Doctor, don't freak out, he's – '

'Be quiet Pond, I'm going to talk to some adults now.'

Amy opened her mouth to argue, but then the door opened, with Ezio holding it open for his friend as he walked through.

'But of course, wherever will I find such a woman who'd be happy to help me with my studies? Their husbands shall have something to say about it, I fear…'

Amy cringed as the Doctor's eyes widened in joy, and his whole body practically lifted itself up into the air as he opened his mouth –

'_Amy!_'

Leonardo Da Vinci walked straight past the Doctor and went to Amy, who had gotten to her feet. She seemed a little taken aback when he embraced her affectionately, and barely had the time to return the gesture when he'd stepped back, beginning to examine her critically. 'Your head, how is it?' He asked, brushing her hair back from the cut and frowning at it. Amy found herself grinning, feeling slightly happier at his obvious concern.

'Its fine now, just throbs a little.'

'That is good to hear,' Leonardo beamed, and then turned to Rory. 'Ah, the one with the nose!'

'The – the one with the _what_?' Rory said, going scarlet and touching his nose subconsciously.

'Your nose is fine, my friend. A noble thing if I ever did see one. Are you sure you're not a Roman?'

Rory was stunned. 'I, uh, spent some time here, a little while back.'

'That'll explain it then. Good to meet you, friend. Leonardo Da Vinci, at your service should you ever need it,' Leonardo shook Rory's hand while Rory gaped uselessly at him. 'I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name!'

'He's Rory,' Amy interjected. 'My husband.' She added a little bashfully, and Leonardo's grin became wider.

'And what a pair you make!' He proclaimed, and then turned back to Rory. 'You are doing good by her, of course? Protecting her like the valiant husband should?'

'To be honest, its her doing the protecting rather than me.' Rory admitted, laughing a little. Leonardo chuckled.

'I am not surprised. _Well, _Ezio,' He turned back to the rest of the room. 'Where is this mysterious Doctor you promised me?'

Ezio smiled and motioned to the Doctor, who was staring at Leonardo. Leonardo bounded up to him at once, and took his hand to shake it.

'Do excuse my manners, I didn't see you there! It's good to see you awake, friend. Perhaps you could tell me more about that wonderful box you have?'

The Doctor struggled to respond for a moment. And then: 'You're Leonardo Da Vinci.'

'Why yes!'

'You're Leonardo Da Vinci.'

Leonardo frowned, and went to give Ezio a questioning look before the Doctor's sudden cry of _"YOU'RE LEONARDO DA VINCI!" _startled him – the Doctor's grip on his hand doubled and he began to shake it thoroughly.

'All my life, _all my life _I've dreamed of meeting you and here you are, all Leonardo Da Vinci-ish and just right _there_ – you're standing _there!_' Leonardo looked down at himself, puzzled, and then yelped as the Doctor began to shake his hand again – his spare hand flew to his hat to keep it in place when it threatened to fall off. 'Oh we'll do all sorts, all sciency stuff and other stuff and _you're Leonardo Da Vinci!_'

Leonardo collected himself, and reached out to grasp the Doctor's arm, laughing. 'Your enthusiasm is infectious! Of course we shall do science Doctor, I would rather nothing else – but you _must _tell me about your wonderful box first, I am dying to know everything!' He pulled his hand from the Doctor's grip with some difficulty and clapped him on the shoulder with it, leading him from the room. 'Its proportions are startling, Doctor – I simply cannot phantom how it works! Start with that, and then tell me everything, everything you can think of!' He said as they walked from the room – the Doctor beamed at him as they passed through the doorway, but took a moment to seize Ezio by the shoulders, startling him.

'You bought me _Leonardo Da Vinci_, you wonderful man!' Ezio's eyes widened as the Doctor kissed him on both cheeks and abruptly released him, bounding after Leonardo.

Ezio looked to Amy and Rory, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. 'I gather he approves?'

'Just a little.' Amy replied, grinning.

* * *

><p>Nothing was seen of Leonardo or the Doctor until night fell over <em>Roma<em>. Ezio and Machiavelli seemed happy to wait, going over maps of _Roma _and the plans of the current movements against the Borgia, settling down after to play chess. For Amy and Rory, however, entertainment was hard to come by but eventually emerged in the forms of Vitorio and Gabriele returning after a successful mission on the outskirts of the city. Eager to make amends with Amy after their blunder in the women's quarters, they insisted on a game. They suggested all sorts – a sparring match, a throwing competition, a resilience contest, but after being abruptly told to keep it down by their _Maestro_, settled instead to being taught the demure game of "I Spy" by Amy and Rory. They were only just running out of subjects to play the game with when Leonardo and the Doctor returned, grinning and laughing.

'We were beginning to think that the Borgia had spirited you both away,' Ezio grunted, getting up from his seat and stretching out – his bones cracked, and he gave a satisfied grimace.

'We could talk them into letting us go, Ezio!' Leonardo laughed, clapping the Doctor on the back. 'Time travel! Can you believe it? I have only _dreamt _of such a thing!'

'Well, I hope that it will be time for you to see it,' Ezio said a little pointedly, and then turned back to Machiavelli when the man cleared his throat – he'd chased Ezio's king up the board, and defeat was looking inevitable. Ezio swore softly under his breath, and reached down to move one of his remaining pawns.

'Yes, of course! We're safe to go out now, aren't we?' The Doctor asked.

'As we will ever be,' Ezio said, and then turned to Vitorio and Gabriele. 'You can stay here and keep our guests company.'

'We don't get to see the magic box?' Vitorio asked, sounding bitterly disappointed.

'No. We need a small party, or we risk raising suspicion. We'll take Giovanni and Valentino, to be safe.'

The two boys pouted, and slunk back to their game in a sulk. Ezio motioned to Leonardo and the Doctor. 'Shall we?'

'Lead the way,' Leonardo said, beaming, as they followed Ezio from the room. Behind them, Machiavelli checkmated Ezio for his own satisfaction, and began to re-set the pieces.

'Gentleman, join me. Its time you were taught how to play a proper game.'

'Do we have to, _Signore_?'

'Yes.'

'_Merda_.'

* * *

><p>Horses were brought from the Assassin stables. One for Ezio, two for the Assassins accompanying them, one for Leonardo and one for the Doctor, who fell off of his trying to get his foot in the stirrup. He was patiently helped up by a nearby Giovanni, and sat on the beast very gingerly the entire journey, gripping the front of the saddle rather than the reins for dear life so that his knuckles turned white. Luckily, the horse has the sense to follow its brethren as they made their way to the TARDIS. When they dismounted and the Doctor tumbled off at the bottom of the hill, he took a moment to insist that he was an excellent horseman, really, it was just that the last time he'd seen a horse it was wondering aimlessly around a spaceship and there hadn't been time for riding practice.<p>

'Should we ask?' Leonardo had murmured to Ezio as they followed him up the hill, the Assassins behind them.

'I'd rather not,' Eizo had replied grimly, just as they reached the top of the hill. The TARDIS stood there, untouched and unnoticed – the Doctor patted the wood of the door fondly.

'Hello old girl,' He murmured. 'Let's get you fixed.' He added before opening the door wide and stepping inside. Leonardo, Ezio and the Assassins followed him into the gloom. Giovanni looked over his shoulder at Valentino, who had stopped in the doorway and was looking in with a stunned expression.

'It is something, eh?' He said, grinning.

Valentino composed himself. 'Quite,' He said, and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Giovanni frowned, thinking the man to be an odd one before turning away and forgetting about him completely.A little way away from him, stepping up onto the console, were Leonardo and Ezio. They watched the Doctor fuss around the console like a worried mother, running his hands around the rim, fingering buttons and murmuring something inaudible.

'I will never get used to this place,' Ezio confided to Leonardo.

'Don't even try to,' Leonardo murmured back. 'This is far too wonderful for any of that.' He added, lost in wonder until something brought him back from his thoughts.

'Leonardo?' The Doctor suddenly called.

'Yes, Doctor?' Leonardo left Ezio to follow the Doctor as he went under the console. He jumped off the end of the ramp and rubbed his hands together to keep out the chill while he waited for Leonardo to join him. Above them, Giovanni and Valentino joined their _Maestro _and squatted to watch through the glass floor.

'Why is it so cold down here?' Leonardo asked through chattering teeth, wrapping his arms around himself.

'The power crystals – one of them exploded when we were attacked.' The Doctor bent down to the gathering of light under the console. When Leonardo's eyes adjusted, he could see jagged outlines of crystal – one had a crack running down through it, almost splitting it in two. The Doctor tittered softly. 'What did those meanie old Templars do to you, hey?' Kneeling by the crystals, he pulled out his screwdriver – its buzz was an echo as he flicked through the numerous settings. Leonardo joined him and watched, the light of the crystals throwing blue light onto their faces. The Doctor had shown him how it worked briefly after he mentioned the device in passing and had shown it to him after Leonardo enquired after it, but he was still perplexed to how it worked. Come to think of it, there was a lot to do with the Doctor that was perplexing. And come to think of _that_, the Doctor himself was perplexing. The man was a riddle, a seemingly insolvable one that lured you into thinking that you'd finally cracked it, but at the final puzzle you'd unlock another that would take just as long to crack. An impossible man.

But Leonardo Da Vinci enjoyed a good riddle, and he'd be damned if the Doctor remained a mystery to him.

'Doctor – '

'Aha! Got it!' The screwdriver had settled into a soft hum. 'Don't you worry, we'll get you fixed up in a jiffy,' He cooed softly to the TARDIS, and pressed the screwdriver against the broken crystal. A sound like tinkling glass rose up, and Leonardo watched in wonder as the material began to seal itself. He shook his head.

'This is beyond my knowledge of anything,' He murmured regretfully. The Doctor stopped in his mending and turned to Leonardo, looking at him with wide eyes. 'You're Leonardo Da Vinci!' He said. 'There isn't _anything _that's beyond you!'

'You keep saying that as though it means something,' Leonardo murmured.

'Why do you doubt your brilliance?' Ezio called out – the Doctor and Leonardo looked up at him as he lifted his wrist and clenched his fingers – his hidden blade slid out and shone like a beacon in the dark. 'Could any man of lesser wit have done _this_?'

Leonardo smiled at him as he retracted the blade again. 'It was a simple feat Ezio,' He murmured, looking back at the crystals as the Doctor looked back at him again. He touched the man on the shoulder, and Leonardo looked round.

'Listen to me.'

What followed first was something the Assassins at the console could make no sense of. It was a frenzied whispering of complicated, extraordinary things – Ezio frowned as he strained to listen. Even with his heightened senses, he couldn't make out even the barest bones; sometimes he heard numbers, alien words, but on the most part it was just gibberish to him.

'What are they saying, _Maestro_?' Giovanni whispered, hoping that the frown on Ezio's face was one of understanding.

'I can't make it out,' Ezio murmured in response. 'An equation, perhaps? It is nothing like I've ever heard before...'

He trailed off as Leonardo suddenly jumped to his feet and moved purposely from under the console to join the Assassins at the top. He shooed them all out of his way and took up a place in front of the console, looking fiercely determined. His outstretched hands hovered over the levers and buttons, and he nodded to himself.  
>'Ready when you are, Doctor!' He called over his shoulder.<p>

There was a buzz from under the console as the Doctor finished repairing the crystal, and Leonardo jumped into action. He seized a lever and threw it down, reached for a dial and twisted it, threw up a two further levers, threw up the first again and then danced away with a yell of triumph as the TARDIS sprang back into life. The lights flickered on, illuminating the place, and the console's glass column ground into life again. He and the Assassins gaped in beauty at the noise and the movement, committing it to their minds in the form of a memory that would surely last the ages.

'_Magnificio_...' Ezio breathed. Leonardo grinned a little breathlessly.

'Quite,' he agreed, and they were left to ponder the wonder for a moment until the Doctor bounded back up and threw out his arms.

'You did it, Da Vinci! You _did it!_' The two men laughed and embraced briefly. 'You flew the TARDIS!'

'Only because you told me how, Doctor! Those equations, they made it so _simple_!' Leonardo gushed, beaming. 'I suppose, though, that even the most complicated of things are simple once broken down...'

'Not my TARDIS,' The Doctor corrected him, clapping him on the shoulder before taking up his rightful place at the console. 'Now...where shall we park?'

'The hideout?' Giovanni suggested.

'No, s'far too small, you haven't got the room – no offense.'

'None taken,' Ezio replied.

'Where, then?'

Everyone became silent for a moment as they thought quietly. And then:

'Perhaps _Signore d'Alviano's _barracks would be a suitable place?' Valentino suggested, surprising everyone. 'They have plenty of room, and I'm sure it would be well protected.'

'Now that's an idea,' Leonardo agreed. 'Doctor - ?' He was cut off as the TARDIS lurched into flight, stumbling forward and grabbing hold of the console's rim. Behind him, the other Assassins had been caught off guard too – Ezio had managed to stay upright, but Giovanni had yet to develop his reflexes to such a degree and tumbled straight into him with a yelp. Valentino stumbled with the movement and fell back onto the railing, which he gripped on to with a shaken expression.

'Perhaps a warning next time, Doctor?' Leonardo managed as Giovanni untangled himself from Ezio with an endless follow of apologies. The Doctor looked over his shoulder and grinned, unperturbed after swaying naturally with the TARDIS's movement.

'Oh you'll get used to it.'

* * *

><p><em><span>The Barracks<span>_

Bartolomeo was snoring, and as much as she loved him, it was keeping Pantasilea awake. The grunts and snorts wouldn't let her sleep. She turned his arms and briefly considered pinching his nose so that the snores would stop, but his face was so composed and peaceful that she thought she'd let him be. He hadn't had a moment's peace since those damned French had started their assault, and he would have been out there with his men that very night if Pantasilea hadn't insisted he get at least one night's rest, for his sake as much as hers.

Perhaps she could put up with the snores.

She kissed him on the forehead. He grumbled in his sleep and his arms tightened around her. She smiled, and had just shut her eyes again when she heard the strangest sound from outside, in the barracks. It was a beautiful, alien noise, and it made something within her thrum. She sat upright as the noise became louder, and shook Bartolomeo frantically.

'Bartolomeo, wake up!'

'Mm? Wha'?' Bartolomeo stirred, blinking sleepily at her in the gloom.

'Do you hear it?'

'Hear what - ?' Pantasilea pressed her finger on his lips and held up her hand. Bartolomeo listened, a strange expression coming over his face.

'What the _demone _is that?' Bartolomeo growled, reaching for his shirt and Bianca the sword. Pantasilea had only just allowed the sword in the bedroom, Bartolomeo's love for it only just falling short of actually having the damn thing in bed with them, but right now she was glad for it. Bartolomeo stopped at their bedroom door when Pantasilea reached for her shawl.

'Stay here,' he said, but was glared at in return.

'You think I'm going to let you go out there by yourself? _Uomo stupido_.' She said, joining him after shrugging the shawl on.

'_Donna maledetta_,' Bartolomeo replied gruffly in turn, but reached for her hand and held it tightly as he opened the door and hurried outside. The cold night air hit them both as they stepped out into the dark, and were greeted with the strangest thing – a blue box materialising from thin air. With every wave of the beautiful noise it solidified more, until it finally came completely into being and stopped with a thunk. A door opened inwards, and a man with a bow around his neck peered out and waved.

'Bartolomeo! Hello!'

'Doctor!' Bartolomeo said. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

'We got my TARDIS working, look!' The Doctor stepped out and motioned to the box, the Assasssins and Leonardo stepping out behind him. He grinned at Bartolomeo. 'I hope you don't mind if we leave her here, do you?'

'No, I –'

'Great!' The Doctor bounded over to them, and shook his hand. 'And who's this?'

Bartolomeo opened his mouth to introduce Pantasilea, but he should have known better. She stepped forward and extended her hand to the Doctor.

'Pantasilea,' she said. 'His wife.'

The Doctor took her hand with a raised eyebrow. He could see the fierce glint in her eye as she gave him an appraising look, and he knew she was making a very accurate judgement of him. Here was a woman not to be trifled with. He shook her hand once. 'Charmed,' he replied, and smiled slightly. She returned it, and then took her hands from his, going past him to greet the Assassins and Leonardo. She kissed Leonardo on the cheek, allowed Ezio to kiss her hand and then tipped her head when Giovanni and Valentino murmured her name in greeting. As she stepped up to the TARDIS to inspect it, Bartolomeo grinned a little bashfully.

'She is my better half,' he confessed to the Doctor. 'I wouldn't be half the man I am without her.' He shook his head, smiling. 'I still don't understand why she is content with me, but I thank God everyday that she is mine.'

The Doctor clasped his hands behind his back. 'Love happens when it's least expected,' he reflected, and then smiled to himself. 'From the most unexpected people.'

'_Mio Dio!_'

The Doctor looked around as Pantasilea looked into the TARDIS. 'How is that _possible_?'

'We don't know ourselves, _Madonna_,' Leonardo said, grinning.

'So it _is _true!' Panatsilea called back to Bartolomeo as she walked back to him.

'You didn't believe me before?' Bartolomeo demanded a little gruffly.

'Of course I did, I just wondered if you had been drinking, is all,' she said kindly, patting him on the cheek. 'Well, now that I have confirmed it with my own eyes – '

'You are more than welcome to join us on this.' Ezio finished for her, smiling. She smiled back at him, and nodded.

'Thank you. Do you have transport back to the hideout?'

'We left our horses at the hillside. We'll go fetch them now.'

'Good,' Pantasilea looked at her husband. 'Back to bed?'

'To bed.'

The Assassins, Leonardo and the Doctor made their farewells and exited the barracks with a lit lantern. Bartolomeo and Pantasilea returned to their room. She shrugged off her shawl and draped it over the chair, sitting on their bed.

'That noise…' she murmured. 'I shall never forget it, as long as I live.'

And then, Bartolomeo sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her neck. Her lips sought his, and for the next hour she forgot that the TARDIS had ever been there at all.

* * *

><p><strong>There is not enough love for Bartolomeo and Pantasilea. They're so adorable and so well matched and I have never shipped any two characters so hard in all my entire life. Ever.<strong>

_**I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP. **_

**__If you would kindly review. ;D **


	41. Chapter Twenty Five

**I'm not pleased with the quality of this chapter: it was more of a filler to prod the story along a bit. The next chapter's a cracker though, not to worry! Enjoy anyway, guys. :) **

**(And only one reviewer got the Tobuscus reference in the last chapter. Call yourself Ass Creed fans, you lot? Honestly :P ) **

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><p><em><span>27th of April, 2012. Scotland. After hours.<span>_

'I noticed the money's arrived in the offshore account.'

'Yes, sir – came through yesterday,' McDonald agreed, standing at Vidic's desk and hoping all the liquids he was sweating out of fear weren't seeping through his uniform. 'We can get the Animus running to how it was again, and, uh, then some.'

'And "then some?" I like the sound of Darren. Well done.' Vidic congratulated McDonald while sifting through some papers on his desk.

McDonald grinned a little shakily. Had he got away with it? Had he, really? He didn't dare hope.

_Maybe_.

'Uh, is there anything else you need, sir?'

'No, no. You're free to go, McDonald.'

McDonald restrained himself from leaping from his seat and bolting out of the door – instead, he got up calmly and saluted Vidic with a shaking hand. He'd almost gotten to the door when:

'Ah, Darren?'

His heart stopped after it threw itself into his throat.

_I've been found out. FUCKFUCKFUCK _a voice in his head screamed. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and he forced himself to turn. 'Sir?' He managed.

Vidic had gotten to his feet, and held McDonald's coat in his hand. 'Forgetting something?'

McDonald wanted to fall to his knees and cry with relief. 'Oh. Thank you.' He forced a laugh, took it from Vidic, and bowed himself out of the office, shutting the door behind him. Vidic eyed the closed door thoughtfully, and then went back to his desk, his fingers groping under the edge until he found a button, which he pressed. A moment later, the door was opened again, and one of those strange men in motorcycle gear opened it and looked inside with an air of expectancy. Vidic, sitting back down behind the desk, nodded wordlessly. The man nodded in response, and shut the door again. It looked down the corridor and saw McDonald's retreating figure disappearing around the corner, shrugging on its coat.

It followed, like it had been told to do.

McDonald wasn't going home just yet. He had a purpose. He knew it was dangerous, he knew he was risking everything Maria had dragged him into, but he knew it was right to do. He had to. _He had to. _

Ever since she'd swept into his life…everything had made sense. He didn't like it, but he'd begun to understand how much of a cowardly little fuck he was in such a short space of time – that and the overwhelming urge to make himself a better person was daunting.

_You're doing this just to impress her, aren't you? _Said a voice in his head. He pushed it aside, and focused on his task. This would make everything better. This would be the thing that made him different.

In what seemed like a ten second walk that was actually a five minute one, he was outside the door of Lucy Stillman's prison. Steeling himself, he punched in the key on the dial pad, and let himself into the holding area beyond. The door at the other end was opened by the guard, who requested identification. McDonald handed him his work ID, and after a glance at it, the guard waved him through. He stepped inside, and after his eyes adjusted after being blinded by the white, he saw Stillman in her glass box, her back to him. She was curled up on her bed, facing the opposite wall.

He swallowed nervously, and turned back to the guard, who had resumed his post at the door and was looking dead ahead, arms crossed over his chest. McDonald couldn't help but notice the amount of muscles on the bastard.

_He could crush my skull like a grape. _

He resisted the urge to squeak in fear, and with some difficulty, cleared his throat.

'I…uh…'

The guard's head turned towards him slowly. He nearly averted his eyes from the gaze behind the sunglasses, but forced them to stay, and he began to sweat again. 'I, uh, need to talk to the prisoner alone. Vidic's orders.'

The guard considered what McDonald had said. And then:

'You got five minutes.'

McDonald nodded a little nervously, and watched as the guard walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. McDonald could just about make out his huge figure behind the glass as he resumed duty just outside the door. McDonald wasted no time – he hurried to the glass cell and hovered outside of it awkwardly. She must have heard him come in, and the sound of his voice, but she hadn't turned. Nothing about her indicated that she was even vaguely interested in him.

'…Stillman?'

Nothing. Hesitantly, he tapped on the glass with his knuckle. Stillman didn't even stir.

'Look, nobody except that guard knows I'm here. I'm risking my life doing this, you can bloody well have the decency to listen.' McDonald hissed. And it was that that motivated Stillman into speaking.

'_Decency_?'  
>Her voice was thin through the microphone.<p>

'Yes. Decency.'

Stillman turned on her bed, and McDonald was met with eyes rimmed by dark circles and a gaunt face. She looked half starved.

'You're _going to talk to_ me _about decency_?'

McDonald faltered for a moment, and then attempted to regain control. 'Look, we don't have time for that. I came here to tell you – '

'_To tell me what? That it's all my fault that I nearly killed everyone?' _

'No –'

'_You haven't let Desmond out of the Animus, have you? I was an idiot to believe Vidic would even consider it.' _

'Wha –'

'_If you've come to gloat about it like the little fuck you are, then –'_

'_I am not gloating I'm trying to help you!_'

Stillman frowned. _'You're trying to help _me?_'_

'Yes. Me. I'm trying to help you. OK?'

Stillman froze, and then shook her head with a glare. _'I don't believe you.' _

'You don't have to. And to be frank, I don't give a damn if you don't. There's an Assassin in this place, and fuck knows how, but I've been dragged into it and we're going to get you and your little buddies out of here. Including Miles.' _Or what's left of him, _he added in his head. 'OK?'

Stillman was silent for a moment. And then: _'Why are you telling me this?' _

McDonald ran a hand through his hair. 'I dunno. Something's happened to me. I want to stop being a dickhead, probably.'

Stillman snorted, but to McDonald's delight, she was smiling. It was little, but it made him want to smile too. They shared a moment before the sound of the door opening made McDonald start so hard that he almost fell over.

'Time's up.' The guard said, holding the door open. McDonald looked back to Stillman, who to his surprise had put the stricken prisoner look on again. Her eyes widened slightly, willing him to play along. He did.

'And don't you forget it.' He said, as though his five minutes had been spent torturing her, and then spun on his heel and strode away, past the guard out of the door. It closed behind him, and McDonald allowed himself a grin.

_Maria'll be impressed. _

The thought cheering him, he trotted back up the stairs, avoiding the steps that had cracked after the incident with the TARDIS, wondering if he might get the chance to meet with Maria that evening.

Behind him, out of the shadows, came the man in the motorcycle gear. Behind the visor of his helmet, he watched McDonald's ascent, and then turned away – taking another route.

The one to Vidic's office.

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><p><strong>Aw snap. McDonald, boy, you watch yourself! <strong>

**You're all going to love the next chapter, I promise. Shit is about to _go down. _Anyway, review, and I'll see you guys then! :D **


	42. Chapter Twenty Six

**GUYS **

**SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN**

**Anyway, I love the Creed multiplayer. ADORE IT. I'm getting used to the Revelations gang but the Brotherhood one will always remain my favorite. **

**_Ubisoft, please bring back my Hellequin. Bring back my Caha._**

**_PLZ._**

**_D:_**

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><p><em>March 22nd, 1500. Rome. Past midnight.<em>

The man's cloak streamed out behind the man as he rode his horse to the _Vaticano_. The black stallion huffed under the whip, and foam gathered at the corners of its mouth, but still it ran on. Its hooves hit the cobbles, creating a noise like thunder.

Under the hood of the cloak, only a mouth that was not meant for smiling could be seen.

Soon, the bridge that ran across the river to the _Vaticano _came into view. The horse neighed as the man yanked the reins to halt the beast in its tracks, and jumped smartly of its back. He tugged the reins and led it forward, and went forth unmolested for a while until a voice from the darkness called to him.

'Friend or foe?' it asked in a voice like silk and wolf's teeth. The head under the hood twitched the direction the voice had come from, and the thin lips moved.

'I am whatever you make of me,' they said. The owner of the first voice seemed to be satisfied with the answer, and stepped out of the darkness. He wore a hood like the other man, and all that could be seen of his face was a sharp nose and a neat little beard circling his mouth. His clothes were red and black, and his cloak swept around his back, parting in two at the ends. The Templar cross was stitched into the green material.

The first man smiled.

'Il Lupo,' he named him. Il Lupo smiled.

'It has been too long, _fratello_.' The first man said, reaching out to grasp Il Lupo on the arm. Il Lupo returned the gesture, smiling again. It was a truly wicked thing to behold.

'It must be important, for you to risk coming here.'

'Believe me, it is. This changes everything.'

'It sounds it.'

The two men walked in companionable silence for a while, the horse clopping along beside them. 'Surely you can tell me now, before we get there.' Il Lupo said. His friend shook his head.

'No. No, this is a thing that must wait. The _Maestro _should hear of it first, although if I tell you all at the same moment, it cannot be helped.'

'I look forward to it.'

The men reached the bridge. A scared looking servant came out from the shadows there and took the black stallion, leading him away over the bridge and to the Vatican's stables. Freed of the horse, the two men strode over the bridge together, passing into Vatican property. They soon came to the doors, and Il Lupo opened one for his friend. He closed it behind them after they had stepped through, and led the man to a wall made of wood. He brushed his fingers over the cool surface, and pressed. There was a click, and a secret door swung inwards.

'After you.'

'_Grazie_,' the stranger said, and stepped through, descending down the stairs behind the door. Il Lupo walked in after him, closing the door behind them.

The rest of the _Vaticano _was left undisturbed.

Il Lupo and the stranger descended the stairs together until they came into a small, poorly lit room that was occupied by an army. It was impossibly small, but as equally as dangerous as ten thousand men. A motley crew of murderers, each with their own reasons for what they did. From under his hood, the stranger eyed each of them in turn.

Lia de Russo was first, the most ruthless smuggler _Roma _had ever seen. With a dispassionate expression, she rolled dice with Teodor Viscardi, an army officer with quite the ruthless streak. His infamous sword was propped against the brick wall behind him, unaware that the portly Auguste Oberlin, an excellent blacksmith, was eying it appreciatively across the room, probably considering how the sword had to be the finest weapon he'd ever made. Beside him sat Silvestro Sabbantini, _Roma's _most desperate nobleman. He muttered darkly over the claw that served as his arm. The stranger could not make out his murmurs. Beside him sat Faustina Collari and Lanz, thieves of _Roma_, comparing weapons and stories of theft. Behind them, in the darkness, the dim figure of the woman known only as the Dama Rossa stood, her red hair like a flame even in the gloom. Her close companion, or rather, the only person she allowed into her presence without a sniff of disdain was Verulo Gallo, the armour clad knight who said not a word. His presence was overwhelming. The stranger knew of more members of the army, but a few were away, perhaps on missions. Fiora Cavazza was the one he missed the most. He grinned, almost a leer at the thought of her, even though he knew she would have his throat if he had ever dared thought as such in her presence.

Il Lupo cleared his throat, and the noise demanded the attention of every single person in the room. All members of Cesare Borgia's army turned to him, and the stranger felt important.

Cesare Borgia's army.

_L'ombra dell'esercito._

'Our friend has arrived. Make room for him.'

Teodor shifted so that the stranger could share his bench. He gripped his shoulder as he sat down.

'It is good to see you, friend.' He murmured. The stranger nodded in response, and accepted a tankard of beer Il Lupo passed to him. Lia nodded to him – she was not a woman of many words, he knew. The stranger slowly sipped his beer as the room slipped into quiet murmurs for a while.

And then: the door opened. A blood red cape swished around expensive boots as they walked inside. The most beautiful chest armour glittered, as did dark, beetle like eyes in a handsome face. Everyone stood at once, saluting and nodding.

Cesare Borgia seemed pleased.

He strode into the middle of room, commanding respect with every step. He stopped in the middle, hands clasped behind his back, and turned his head to gaze directly to the stranger in the corner.

'Well? What news do you bring?'

The stranger stood. 'The Assassins have something of great power – perhaps even _stregoneria_. It changes everything we have ever thought possible. We must take it from them by force before it is too late.'

Cesare's eyebrow lifted. 'Another Piece of Eden?' He asked.

The stranger let his hood drop. A traitor was revealed to them all.

'No,' Valentino Virga said. 'Something so much more.'

And then he smiled.

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><p><strong>OH NO HE DIDN'T <strong>

**OH **

**NO**

**HE**

**DIDN'T **

**Throwing the odd traitor in there livens things up a bit, don't you think? :D Review! ^^ **


	43. Chapter Twenty Seven Phase One

**MORE PHASES. YAY. I'll be a bit more sparse with these ones, and upload the other two over the next two nights (or over the next couple of days if you live outside the UK) Enjoy! :D**

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><p><em><span>27<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland – 13:00_

'No sign of him?'

'None. We could tip Seventeen upside down, but we won't find any memories of the Doctor.'

Vidic turned to look over his shoulder at the men seated at his desk. The stripes on their shoulders indicated a high rank. He shook his head.

'There must be! Have the workers double the search.' Vidic growled, looking out back at the workers in the hub. The three men behind him looked at each other a little helplessly.

A silence settled in his office. A phone trilled – the two men turned to look at their companion as his eyes widened and he began rummaging in his pocket. He pulled out a Blackberry, and it buzzed in his hand.

'Sir, may I - ?'

Vidic gave a dismissive wave, not looking around. The man thanked him, and exited the room, answering his phone just as he closed the door behind him. His voice was muted behind the door, and his figure could be just made out through the frosted glass. The other two men shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Vidic made no move to take the conversation further. After eying the other, one suggested: 'Maybe he could have gone elsewhere?'

'No. No, absolutely not. His ship was linked with Ezio's DNA too intimately to go elsewhere. Here's there. Somewhere. Hiding from us…' Vidic trailed off into silence. The two men eyed each other again, and then all was silent.

The door opened, and the third man lent in, his phone in his hand and his eyes wide. 'Sir?'

Vidic turned.

'We have a breakthrough!'

'What?'

'A test subject back at base – we found something interesting in the memories of one of the SA! A direct reference to the TARDIS! We got him!'

Vidic was stunned for a moment, agape with shock, but then he pulled himself together. 'Get the test subject on a video link right away!'

'Even better sir,' the man grinned. 'They're flying him over right now. He should be here in an hour.'

'Wonderful!' Vidic said. And then he smiled.

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><p><strong>Not much to this chapter I know, but the next couple are ones I'm pretty pleased with - especially the third, but you'll have to wait for that :3 Anyway, review guys! :D <strong>


	44. Chapter Twenty Seven Phase Two

__**SO, this was a while in posting, but enjoy! :D **

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><p><em><span>Maria's Apartment – 13:30<span>_

McDonald spent a while fixing the spikes of his hair before he knocked on Maria's door. As he waited for her to answer, he straightened the lapels of his coat, fixed his collar, reasoned with himself why it was better that he hadn't bought any flowers but when she did finally open the door, he forgot all that in an instant. Her eyes were wide and afraid, and she was looking over his shoulder wildly.

'Maria - ?'

'Come in! _Quickly!_' Maria hissed, grabbing his arm and yanking him inside. He stumbled forward as she let go of his arm to slam her door behind him, quickly throwing the bolts across.

'Maria, what's - ?' He was cut off as she dragged him forward into the living room, where another man stood up from her sofa. McDonald recognised him instantly as another Assassin – his nimble but heavy figure, free moving trousers and a red and white hoodie. His hood was down, and it showed McDonald a chiselled, hardened face with eyes almost the exact green of Maria's, and a white scar on his cheek. Beside him, Maria visibly relaxed as she re-entered his presence, and it sent a surge of spite up McDonald's throat. He attempted his tough guy look – legs spread and chest thrown out, but it didn't seem to bother the Assassin; he spared McDonald one glance before looking to Maria.

'This is the guy you told me about?' He asked. From what McDonald could tell, he was English. Maria nodded.

'Yes, this is him. Sit down Darren, I'll explain everything in a sec. This is Kevin, my brother.'

McDonald suddenly felt quite silly. 'Oh. Hi.' he said, gingerly shaking the hand Kevin offered. Mark shook hands once, before sitting down again, directing his gaze to an object on the table. McDonald followed it, and found the book Maria had shown him on his first visit. That bloke's diary – what was his name? Mach something?

'We've found something,' Maria said quickly, sitting beside Kevin and rubbing her palms together nervously. 'While he was there, the Doctor and the Assassins were betrayed. To the Templars.'

'_What? _By who?'

'One of their own – here,' Maria turned the book around towards her and read from it. She wasn't going to bother with the impressive Italian this time. 'I can't tell the date; it's been smudged, but it says: "_We are betrayed! Attacked as we returned from the mission that would save us all! One of our own, working with Templars, all along – and they took – _I can't make that out _- Time is short, and things move quickly as we prepare for another attack. I curse he who betrayed us, and declare now that he is no son of the Creed!"'_

'That doesn't sound too good.'

'It isn't. The Assassin who betrayed them was an undercover Templar. No doubt his name and what he did'll be noted in the Templar records, and if we can find it – '

'Then Abstergo can.'

'Exactly. We've no idea of knowing if they've any idea that their link to the Doctor could be in their archives, right under their noses, either.' Maria rocked nervously, lacing her fingers together and pressing them to her mouth. 'Our only hope is to get to the records before they do, and destroy them.'

'I'll get my guild to start searching,' Kevin interjected, pressing the earpiece he had on and standing up. 'We may be few, but we have contacts. We'll do our best.'

'What if the best isn't good enough?' Maria murmured, staring out into space. Kevin looked as though as though he might reply, but then the earpiece flashed, and he began to talk rapidly instead.

'We need to get a search team on the Abstergo archives we know of, looking for any reference to subject 933, code name Bad Wolf. Get the message out, get everybody available on it.'

'_Yes sir.' _The earpiece said. Kevin pressed it again, and turned back to Maria and McDonald.

'I'll get going. I need to get some stuff done, but I'll be on this with everyone else as soon as I get the chance.'

'Thank you,' Maria stood and hugged her brother quickly. 'Stay safe,' she murmured.

'I always do,' Kevin murmured back, before letting go of his sister. He made his way to the open window and vaulted out of it, launching himself over Glasgow.

Maria turned back to McDonald, looking at him helplessly.

'Shit?' He suggested.

'Shit,' Maria agreed, sitting heavily on the sofa and burying her face in her hands. She looked like she might cry.

'Hey hey hey…' McDonald murmured, sitting down next to her and, moving automatically, put his arms around her. He only realised what he'd done when she unexpectedly leant into him, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder as she shook with nerves. He almost froze in shock, the urge to snatch his arms away almost overwhelming him for a moment, but then he realised just how much he was enjoying the warmth of her, so close to him, and gently laid his head on top of hers. 'Hey…' he murmured again, his heart in his throat.

But it had never beaten faster.

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><p><strong>Aw. Fluff.<strong>

**ANYWAY. Phase three of four will be uploaded tomorrow! :D **


	45. Chapter Twenty Seven Phase Three

**Not one of the best things I've ever written quality wise, but content wise its one of my favorites. Hope you guys enjoy! :D 7**

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><p><em><span>Scotland - Abstergo Headquarters<span>_**  
><strong>

'What's his name?'

'We don't know sir, he used to know it before he began spending way too much time in the Animus – he only answers to Teodor now. He won't answer any of your questions unless you call him such, sir. But his official Abstergo records say he's Subject 1305.'

Vidic was handed a file, which he flicked through as he was led down a corridor. He gave the subject's bio a brief scan before pulling out a headshot – a youth with bright eyes looked back at him in the form of a side and front profile.

'I can't abide subjects who chose The Officer as their persona,' Vidic said with a sniff, tucking the headshot back inside the file and handing it to an employee to his left, who took it and fell back without a word. He spared the man to his right a glance. 'Who did you choose?' He asked, seized with a sudden and fanciful curiosity.

'The Footpad, sir. I go where I'm needed, fast.'

Vidic appraised him – a Southern man with a lean figure, sharp black eyes and a questioning aura about him that was borderline suspicious – yes, here was a man who fit Lanz to the _z. _

'Good man,' He praised him. To his satisfaction, the agent barely acknowledged him. If there was one thing he couldn't abide more than Officers, it was fools who lapped up praise and tried to build something constructive on it. Vidic and Abstergo needed agents who had skill and damn well knew it – anyone else would be dealt with accordingly.

'Just through here, sir,' The agent said, opening a door and stepping back to allow Vidic to pass through it. Vidic walked through, and encountered two armed agents standing at the back of the room and a man sitting in a chair. He'd gelled his hair to the point where it was greasy to keep it flat and parted, and he stared at Vidic with hard beetle eyes which no longer had the spark that he'd had in his headshots. He'd straightened up as he walked in, and regarded everybody with a sneer.

_God, give me the strength to deal with this moron _Vidic pleaded silently, and then forced his mouth into a smile.

'Good afternoon, Teodor! And how was your journey?'

'Acceptable,' the subject sniffed. 'And the place where I find myself now even less so.'

'Well, you shan't be here for long, so never mind. Let's get cracking, shall we?' Vidic said, pulling out the chair opposite of the subject and getting comfortable. The subject's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. 'So my resources tell me that you remember something of interest to us.'

'That's right,' the subject said, running his fingers along the length of the table and inspecting dust that wasn't there. 'The man you seek – one of my brothers had the pleasure of meeting him personally. It was he who bought us the news of his presence.'

'I see. Who was this man?'

The subject looked sharply at Vidic. 'Why should I tell my brother's name to some old fool who could do _anything _with that information?'

Vidic had to briefly reason with the part of himself that wanted to reach over, grab this idiot by his greasy hair and slam his face onto the table, trying to convince it that its opinions were appreciated and that there'd be time for that later. Once it'd slunk off to the back of his mind, growling, he gave the subject a smile.

'Believe me, this old man knows what he's doing. He _and _the army he's in charge of,' he reminded the subject patiently. 'Now, his name?'

And there it was: that flicker of humanity behind the subject's eyes that didn't belong to Teodor or anybody else – it was the man he used to be, and he was afraid. Vidic's look addressed him directly – a fox's smile – _I'm going to get you. And when I do, it'll hurt. _

Unsurprisingly, Teodor took over again, straightening up and fixing Vidic with a narrowed stare.

'Valentino Virga. He posed as a member of the Assassin Brotherhood while relaying vital information to his brothers and sisters – we would have been truly lost without him.'

'When did you first hear about the man we're looking for?'

'March the twenty second, in a meeting our master had organised just to hear what information Valentino had bought us. He spoke of an object of sorcery – something that would change everything.'

'Describe it to us.'

'A box. A blue box, of wonder and majesty.'

At those words, Vidic wanted to jump out of his seat in glee. They had him! _They knew a date! _

'And what happened then?' Vidic tried to keep the excitement out of his voice.

And then: a strange look came over the subject's face. A frown, one of genuine bewilderment and upset. His hand worried his forehead as he shook his head slowly.

'I…I can't remember…'

Vidic was frozen in numb shock for a moment. And then anger: red hot anger. No. Not when they were so close.

That part of him he'd convinced into going away came back with force, and with a snarl, he grabbed the subject's hair and brought his head down onto the table – the crack it made the three guards start violently, and they shifted anxiously as the subject howled in pain and fear. Vidic leant over, pressing his mouth against the subject's ear.

'You can't remember?' He hissed. 'I need you to remember!'

'I can't!' The subject howled, very much a scared young man in a strange place with bad people and not at all Teodor. 'I can't remember! It's the Animus!'

'It's not the Animus, it's the people in it!' Vidic hissed. 'The deluded little maggots who let themselves get lost in it!' Vidic let go of his hair and sunk back in his seat. The subject raised his head then, and Vidic was disgusted by what he saw – a face streamed with tears and a nose that bubbled with snot and blood running down from a bruised forehead, and it began to scream.

'All of us who went in, we never came back!' He howled. He twisted in his seat to point at the armoured guards behind him. 'Both of these men, they completed their training as Verulo Gallo, that bold knight, a great leader! _Now they never speak a word because he never spoke any at all!_'

'That is enough!' The agent, the Footpad, stepped forward from his position and raising his hand, but the subject wasn't finished – he threw a finger at him.

'And you! You the devoted agent, quick on foot and sly like fox! But we, we of the Animus know why you are who you are! Your wife, she died, didn't she? Giving birth to your son! And where is your son now, hmm? Lost in a care system that doesn't care about him, and you regret it every single day of your life! You carry a picture of him in your wallet, in your pocket!' He motioned to the agent's pocket, and even the agent himself glanced towards it. 'Your memories, your thoughts, your feelings, they are all over the network! You are a ghost of the Animus – and we whisper your name as we kill, as we fight for our lives and our sanity! We cry for your wife and your son, just as you do inside when you realise that no matter how well performed task, no matter how many you kill, there will always be dull ache, just like there was inside of Lanz – right up until the day he was killed by _EZIO AUDITORE DA FIRENZE THE PROPHET THE MESSENGER THE LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS_ – '

He stopped as one of the armoured guards stepped up swiftly behind him and, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder, pulled out a syringe and plugged it swiftly into his neck. A blissful look came over the subject's face, and he sighed in pleasure.

'Ah. The darkness, again.' he murmured happily. His head began to roll on his shoulders, and he fixed Vidic and the agent with an unfocused stare. 'Ezio Auditore Da Firenze. And the man they call the Doctor. Oh my.' He grinned. 'I…no…' he stared at the ceiling. 'Teodor, saw them together, in battle. Them and the blue box of majesty…' he fixed them with that unfocused stare again, and he _giggled. _'Out of the two of them, he was not sure who was killer, and who was healer.' He sighed again. 'Blissful darkness…' he murmured. 'Back to the Animus. Back to the ghosts who cry for who they are no longer.'

And then he was gone – passed out onto the table. There was a moment of silence, before Vidic sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

'I have a headache now,' he murmured regretfully, and waved a hand in dismissal. 'Take him away. I want him in a coma, and plugged into an Animus. If he won't tell us, we'll take it by force.'

Without question, the two armoured guards placed one hand each in the subject's armpits and hefted him out of his chair with hardly any effort at all. The subject's head lolled softly on his chest as he was dragged from the room. The door was shut.

And then Vidic looked at the agent, who was still frozen to the spot. He seemed to be struggling, eyes moving madly and his mouth working uselessly.

'Agent.'

The agent turned slowly, trying to resume a normal expression. 'Sir?' he managed.

'These…feelings of yours. This problem. Does it get in the way of your duties, at all?'

'No, sir. I…I thoughtI had them quelled.'

'Hm,' Vidic considered him. 'Keep them bottled up. Ignore them.'

'Yes sir.'

Vidic pulled out his business card. 'When you return to America, give this to your superior. Welcome to the inside circle, Master Templar.'

The agent took it. In any normal case, anybody would be lost for words.

But, to Vidic's satisfaction, the agent had some.

'Thank you, sir.'

'I shall see you at the next meeting.'

And then Vidic walked out, content that things were as they should be.

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><p><strong>We'll be seeing more from that agent. <strong>

**:3 **

**Review! :D**


	46. Chapter Twenty Seven Phase Four

__**Ohai guys! How've we all been? Sorry for the super slow update, but it was my birthday last week and I got a little distracted, and plus school work will forever be awful. Anyway, the last phase of 27 for you, and another chapter after this one. Hope you enjoy! **

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><p><em><span>Maria's Apartment – 23:30<span>_

'Nothing?'

'No,' Maria sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she watched the Abstergo logo turn on her laptop screen, this time no different than the past five hours she'd spent watching it. She heard the shuffle of bare feet on the rug, and a mug of tea being offered to her. Smiling, she took it, and murmured her thanks as she sipped it. She caught the smell of coffee as McDonald sat beside her, sipping from his own mug and watching the laptop screen with her. 'They must've only just changed the passcodes this week – I could get in last week.'

'Mmm.'

Silence.

'Why're you still here?'

'Mmm?'

'You should've gone home hours ago.'

'Nah, we haven't finished here yet. I'll go when we do.' McDonald replied, grunting as he cracked his neck.

'Well, it doesn't look like we'll be making any progress, so I'm just about ready to call it a night.' Maria sighed, and reached behind her laptop to grope for the books laid open behind it. They'd turned the lights off hours ago, just in case they were being watched. She found the Machiavelli's diary and dragged it carefully towards her, scanning it futilely in the glow of the laptop screen. 'There's got to be something in here we've missed – or something in other documents I have that I haven't even thought of looking in yet. For all we know, Da Vinci could've written the word TARDIS onto some of his sketches.' She growled in frustration, waving her hand.

'Should we check…?'

She looked over to McDonald, who was looking at her expectantly. She laughed.

'I'm joking!'

'Oh,' McDonald said, and then grinned. Maria smiled at him, and then looked thoughtful.

'He designed a time machine, didn't he? I wonder if he based it on the TARDIS – if he ever got a look.'

'Well knowing what I do of the Doctor, he probably got a chance to drive it.' McDonald said thoughtfully, tugging on his earlobe.

Maria hummed in agreement. 'That'd be something.'

They both sipped from their drinks in unison as a silence settled between them – teetering uneasily on the edge of being companionable and awkward at the same time. They both sat there for a while, before Maria sighed.

'I'm calling it a night.' She said heavily, setting her mug down on the table.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah,' she sighed, and then rubbed her eyes with her hand. 'I don't know how we're meant to beat them.' She murmured.

'Hey,' McDonald nudged her. 'We will.'

'Thanks,' Maria replied, and then frowned. '_We?_'

McDonald grinned bashfully. 'Those Templars ain't all that. I'll throw my lot in with you Assassins, see where that gets me.'

Maria grinned. 'Good to hear it.'

That silence again. McDonald gulped down the rest of his coffee. Something needed to be said, and he didn't know what it was, but it was on the tip of his tongue just threatening to burst out of him -

'Maria – '

'Do you want to stay the night?'

McDonald shut his mouth. 'What?'

'It wouldn't make much sense for you to walk all the way back home in the dark. I have an old blow up mattress if you want it, or you can sleep on the sofa?'

McDonald looked flustered. 'I – I thought you meant - !'

Maria looked perplexed, and then her eyes widened. 'Oh God, no! No, not like that! I barely know you!'

'Didn't stop you last time!'

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and when he saw Maria's face, he wished he could snatch them back. He searched her face frantically, and was relieved beyond measure to see it relax.

'Well, that was Assassin business,' She said after a while, and then sighed. 'It isn't something I'm proud of, but my superiors wanted me to check if you had any documents at home. I couldn't see any other way in.'

McDonald frowned. 'You went through my things?'

'No more than I had to. I didn't find anything, don't worry. Other than those magazines…' Maria trailed off, and then grinned at McDonald's horrified expression. 'I'm joking.'

McDonald grinned again. 'You need to stop doing that.'

Silence.  
>'So – sofa or mattress?'<p>

'I'll take the sofa.'

'As you wish,' Maria said, closing her laptop, drinking the rest of her tea and motioning at McDonald's mug. 'You finished with that?' McDonald swallowed the rest of his coffee hastily – it burnt his throat but he didn't care, because their fingers touched briefly when he handed the empty mug to her. 'I'll go get you some blankets.'

'OK,' he managed. She smiled at him in the gloom and then was gone. As the kitchen light flicked on, McDonald allowed himself a moment of schoolboy panic to consume h_im utterly. __I am staying in the home of a very beautiful woman who has turned my world upside down in a matter of days oh god she's coming back – _

While McDonald had flustered in the wake of his own thoughts, Maria had returned with an armful of blankets. 'It's not much, but I hope it'll do,' she said apologetically, holding them out to him.

'Thanks,' McDonald said, taking them from her and awkwardly toeing off his shoes. He looked up at her and smiled, and she smiled back.

That silence again. They both searched for something to say, but there was nothing. Maria was the first to cave in.

'Well, good night.'

'G'night.'

With one last smile, she turned and left. McDonald shrugged off his jacket, rolled out the blankets, laid down on the sofa and willed for sleep to come. It wouldn't. His head was filled with thoughts of the woman sleeping a couple of doors away from him. Frustrated with himself, he moved awkwardly onto his side and half-heartedly punched the cushion under his head.

_Stop it. Once all this is over, you won't see her ever again. Don't let yourself do…whatever you're doing.  
><em>  
><em>But what if it isn't? What if she wants to see you after?<br>_  
><em>Of course she doesn't – look at her, and look at you. I'd run a mile from me.<br>_  
><em>But you're changing.<br>_  
>McDonald contemplated that for a little while. Yeah. He had.<p>

And it was because of her.

He fell asleep smiling.

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><p><strong>N'aw. Fluff. Anyway, next chapter up in a bit! Thanks for reading and reviewing, guys! <strong>


	47. Chapter Twenty Eight

__**I'm really pleased with the characterization in this one. Anyway, be sure to tell me what you think. **

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><p><em><span>March 21<span>__st__, 1500. Rome._

Ezio had finally found the time to sleep: a night in a bed rather than at a table in a tavern, surrounded by friends rather than cutthroat thieves, and despite the more than welcome opportunity, he couldn't make good use of it. He turned over and over in his bed (The Doctor had made it clear he wouldn't have any need for it) and willed for sleep with all his might, emptying his mind of everything but songs from his childhood in a vain attempt to lure himself into sleep - but nothing worked. Nothing. Unable to keep still for much longer, he sat up, glaring into the dark. _Dio _knew when he'd get a chance for some rest like this ever again, but here he was, awake and alert as anything. There was something bothering him – something in the undercurrent of his thoughts that was preventing him from sleeping.

This used to be so much easier when he was younger.

Pushing the thought aside, he resolved to do something constructive all the while sleep would not come. He grimly thought of paperwork detailing the Assassin expenses – the stack on his sister's desk down stairs had gathered some dust since their dealings with the Doctor and his friends, and Ezio supposed it would not take care of itself anytime soon. Sighing, he reached for the shirt he'd thrown casually over a chair, pulled it on and groped on his bedside table for tinder box to light the candle he'd put out hours ago. Once lit, he found his hidden blade and strapped it to his right wrist. The Assassin hideout – his home in _Roma _-was the last place he expected to be attacked, but if there was anything his life had taught him, it was always to expect the unexpected. It would do no harm to bring it. Satisfied it was tied securely, he took the candle and made his way out of his room and to the top of the stairs – and was surprised to see that someone was just as awake at this ungodly hour as he; the flickering light of a lit candle was pooling onto the bottom steps. If it was an enemy down there, he was a foolish one – no intruder would light up a room they wanted to meddle with, so Ezio emerged from the stairs and found neither friend nor foe but the Doctor instead, fiddling with strange coloured strings that sat in a heap on an armchair, spewing forth more strings that ended in a similar tangle on the Doctor's lap where he sat cross legged on the floor. His strange device – the _screwdriver_, he called it, was clamped between his teeth as he pulled the strings apart and examined the end of each critically before dropping them back into the pile again.

'Doctor?'

The Doctor looked up. 'Ehzihoh!' He said through the screwdriver. 'Whathre yhou dhoingh uhp?'

'I'm sorry, Doctor, but your Italian is terrible.'

The Doctor grinned with his gums at Ezio and took the sonic screwdriver out of his mouth. 'What're you doing up?'

'I could not sleep. There are some papers that need attending to.'

The Doctor pulled a face. 'Papers are boring – no, you don't want to do them!'

'Alas, Doctor, but expenses won't ever work themselves.'

'But there's got to be something more interesting to do – you could help me with this!'

Ezio smiled, entertained by the proposition. 'If you're sure I would not be intruding?'

As an answer, the Doctor hauled the mass of coloured strings from the armchair and abruptly dumped them onto the floor beside him. 'Take a seat,' he said, patting the armchair. Ezio blew out his candle so not to waste it, and took a seat next to the Doctor, who had resumed his fiddling as though Ezio were never there. Ezio watched him a little while before daring to ask.

'What are you doing?'

'Whorkhing ohout ah lhot ohf fhings.'

'I'm sorry?'

The Doctor took his sonic screwdriver out of his mouth again. 'Working out a lot of things,' he said. 'Things that need working out, and out of _all _the things that have ever needed working out this one is probably the most important.'

'And what is that?'

'Hweafer wher'he bheingh hwhatchedh.'

'Doctor – '

'Whether we're being watched.'

The room suddenly seemed cold. Ezio raised his eyebrows.

'You have reason to believe we are?'

'A whole lot of reasons.' The Doctor said. 'Plus, I've seen how they're doing it. With different eyes, but I know what I saw, and they're using _that _to watch us.'

'…Doctor, I don't understand.'

'Back in the future, they've got this machine. Its technology that they shouldn't have, but they've got it anyway – and when you get in it, you can relive the memories of your ancestors. You can be you one day and then your uncle a thousand years ago.' The Doctor's old eyes roved around the room in thought. 'You can drown in the centuries, loose yourself in the past and find the answers to secrets that have long been buried. And,' he turned to Ezio, and his voice dropped into a whisper. 'Relive moments exactly like this.'

Ezio was quiet for a moment as he turned this information around in his head. 'You mean to say, Doctor – '

'Yes, I mean to say that there might be someone watching us, right now, in the future. Through your eyes and ears.' The Doctor said so quietly that Ezio was forced to lean forward to hear him. 'And I need to stop them from doing that.' The Doctor's attention suddenly snapped back to his wires – he frowned at them, and then shoved them off of his lap to rummage in his pockets. What he pulled out was a ring that looked like a plain gold wedding band. 'This, Ezio, is a bio-damper.'

'A what?'

'A bio-damper, Ezio, do learn how to listen.' The Doctor gave Ezio a reproachful look before holding the ring up into the dim light. 'I've made some changes to it – whenever you wear it, your DNA'll be…dampened. So back in the future, whenever they try to find memories of me in your ancestor's DNA – '

'They won't be able to access any.'

The Doctor grinned. 'Exactly.' He held it out to Ezio and looked at him expectantly. Ezio eyed it warily.

'Doctor, are you sure this will work? Perhaps it would be better if you didn't involve me in your plans.'

'Ezio Auditore, your DNA is in the hands of people with technology way more advanced than anything you'll ever know five hundred years in the future, and they're using it to get at me. You're so very involved already.' The Doctor replied quite seriously.

Ezio considered him and the ring, and then took it from him. 'I assume you want to keep this a secret from the others.' He said simply, considering what finger to put the ring on. He didn't want people noticing it and asking questions.

'It'll, ah, probably be best we don't cause panic.'

Ezio found the thought of keeping something so important from his friends disquieting, but he knew it had to be done. After a moment's deliberation, he decided on slipping the ring over his thumb – surprisingly, it held over the knuckle. He hoped it would not be seen there. The Doctor watched him put it on and, seemingly satisfied, hauled the mound of coloured string back into his lap, sonic screwdriver already in hand. 'Now that's sorted, we can get down to business when everyone's awake.'

'Business?'

'A plan, Ezio! We need a plan! Did you really think we'd be sitting around for the entire time waiting for the Templars to get a move on?' The Doctor frowned at Ezio. 'No, no – we've got a lot to do and not long to do it, so off you go, back to bed.'

'But the paperwork – '

'Bhedh, Ehzihoh.' The buzz of the sonic screwdriver cut off any further argument. Ezio blinked, raised his hands, and got up. He was at the stairs when the thought that had been lurking in the undercurrent of his conscience suddenly made itself known, and he turned.

'Doctor?'

'Mhhhm?'

'My…descendant. Is he in any danger?'

The Doctor stopped working, and looked up. Ezio saw something move behind his eyes.

'Him? He's perfectly fine, don't worry about him.'

The buzz was abruptly resumed again. Ezio didn't move.

'Do not lie to me, Doctor.'

The buzz stopped. After a moment, the Doctor looked up.

'By now, and after the strain they put his biological makeup under, I doubt that there's very much of him left. He's in a lot of danger already, if the time for danger has not already passed.'

'If we ever have the chance – '

'I doubt we'll – '

'_If _we ever have the chance, Doctor – ' Ezio persisted. 'I would see him helped. That man is of my blood, as much as my sister and my mother. And I would like to think that I could watch the back of any kin of mine, despite the centuries between us.'

The Doctor considered Ezio's words –put them against his own memories. His fingernail tapped against the sonic screwdriver, knocking out four tiny beats in succession without him realising it.

'Yes – you would think that, wouldn't you?'

Silence fell between the two men.

'Buonanotte, Dottore.' Ezio said finally, and then went upstairs to bed. To his own surprise later in the morning, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow_._

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><p><em><strong><strong>_**Hopefully my updating will improve soon. But anyway yes, review! :D **


	48. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Another chapter where I'm pleased with the content, and this one has a bit of a twist I'll reveal at the end. Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>30<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland_

The memoires were slow to load. Vidic struggled to control the rising bite of frustration that was growing in him, giving him a headache. Why couldn't people just be more…_cooperative. _They wouldn't have to put them in comas then. It was a waste of life, truly – and that was nothing Vidic supported.

But, if it was necessary.

Everyone else in the small room was doing their very best not to look at the sickeningly still figure in the Animus that had been wheeled in at short notice – skinny to the point where his bones jutted through his skin, his breath fluttering and weak, the subject simply known as 1035 was just a withered excuse for a human. Everybody thought the same thing: _As soon as we're done, as soon as he comes out of that thing – he's going to die. _But nobody moved to stop it – nobody wanted to help him. No, they were all too afraid of that man with the voice like gold, who sat in a chair, holding his chin with one hand and tapping his fingers impatiently on the table next to him as they used beautiful technology to drag struggling memories of a man long dead out of a man who was going the same way.

Vidic sighed. 'Can we hurry this up?'

The Animus attendant looked up from Ben's readings and swallowed nervously. 'It's his consciousness – it's not responding to the Animus, sir, because of its, uhm…state.'

Vidic rolled his eyes. 'Well up the power then. Honestly, we pay your people's way through university to get some degree and you come up with the useless excuse of _it's not responding. _Perhaps our money is better spent on something else, like biscuits or stationary?'

'No, sir. Sorry, sir. I'll increase the power, sir.'

Vidic waved his hand in dismissal. Nervously, the Animus attendant typed something into a keyboard, and something, at last, started happening on the screen that had been rolled into the room. Everybody looked over as one as the Animus's occupant stirred, grimacing with pain as the Animus assaulted his mind. And as one, they looked away guiltily – all the officials who were paying for this project and had come to see their money being well spent. Vidic looked happier as figures and shapes began to take form on the screen, and he turned to look over at one of the figures standing behind him.

'It's a shame we didn't bring popcorn, Darren.'

The man took a second to choose what response would be best: he settled on a warbled laugh, strained with a slight hint of fear.

'Yeah – sir.' He managed. The other figure standing behind him – another man lean of figure and the disposition of a Footpad, rolled his eyes when Vidic turned back to the screen – the contents of which were looking more and more promising.

From the memories of an officer, the beginnings of a war were emerging.

* * *

><p><em>??/?_

Teodor was waiting with Il Lupo. But for what? They had been told something, but it was little to go by.

_Wait for the noise. _He had said. _You'll know it when you hear it. _

And they could hear it now. It sounded from the ground below them, a noise of terrible beauty that made wonderful visions of blood and betrayal well up in Teodor like childhood memories. He felt captivated by it, drawn to it and urged on by it. Beside him, Il Lupo growled in pleasure. The sound was obviously having the same effect on him, too. Teodor's gloved hands tightened on the edge of the roof as adrenaline poured down his legs. What a glorious feeling. What a wonderful noise.

What a wonderful day for betrayal.

The blue box they'd heard so much about materialized into being to the pulse of the sound, and a door in its front opened. The boasting voice of the man with a bow around his neck rose up to greet them like a smoke signal. Robes of white and red filled by enemies shuffled out after him. One, at the back, looked up at Teodor's roof, and smiled.

_Now. _

Teodor leapt, Il Lupo moving alongside him. They flew down through the air, weapons readying – Il Lupo's arm moved backwards so his clumsy blade snapped into action and Teodor snatched his sword from his waist.  
>They were going to make it.<p>

But they had forgotten something.

The Auditore was an old man. An old man with a wealth of experience and inhuman senses – he felt the change in the air even before Teodor had begun to move. His head snapped up, eyes a piercing gold, and then –

* * *

><p><em>*~ANIMUS DESYNCHRONIZED~*<br>*~INSUFFICENT DATA~*  
>~*ERROR PROGRAMME_01000010 01000001 01000100 00100000 01010111 01001111 01001100 01000110~*<em>

* * *

><p>'No no <em>NO!<em>'

Vidic's shout of dismay made everyone start violently. The Animus attendant looked simply terrified as he dived onto the controls and flailed at them in vain – even more so when Vidic came towards him with a face of fury and seized him by his front, pushing his face into his.

'Make it work!'

'It can't sir, it can't!' the attendant howled, clawing at Vidic's grasp on his clothes. 'His mind is too broken, the Animus will kill him!'

'I'll kill _you _if you can't get me what I want!' Vidic hissed. The blue glow of the screen, accompanied by the white of the flashing numbers, cast a very strange glow on the look on his face. The attendant gibbered in fear, and Vidic's look became disgusted. He dropped him, and looked across the room to the two agents behind his empty seat.

'Get him out of my sight, Darren.'

'Sir,' came the reply, and the Scottish agent stepped forward. He grabbed the attendant by his shoulder. 'Come on, you.'

'No, please, don't kill me!'

'I said _come on!_'

The attendant was dragged howling from the room. Everyone who remained were as still as the man in the Animus. Vidic watched them go, and then sighed as if what had just happened had exhausted him. He turned back to the investors with a disappointed and apologetic expression.

'Gentlemen, please, forgive me. Our – _your_ technology is certainly up to scratch, but unfortunately _some _of our people aren't.'

'It's – it's quite alright.' One of the investors, the fattest, managed. 'We've seen what the Animus can do before. I – we are well assured that our money is being used wisely.' The rest of investors nodded in agreement.

Vidic appeared to sag a little in relief.

'Thank you so much, gentleman. My people can arrange for your transport home.' He said. Taking this as their cue to leave, the investors got to their feet and shuffled out of the door. Vidic closed it behind them, so he and the second agent were the only ones remaining. He sighed, and gave the subject in the Animus a dismissive look.

'Do you think we'll get much more from him, Agent?'

'No, sir.'

'I feared as much.' Vidic sighed. 'Why aren't all subjects like you, agent? Strong enough to resist giving your mind over to the Animus?'

The agent seemed to think for a moment. 'Permission to speak freely, sir?'

Vidic waved his permission.

'That subject there, sir, he was one of the ones with dreams. They're always the ones who never complete the training programme. They had something else to live for sir, something else to occupy their mind with – while it was busy thinking about the future, the Animus hacked away into their thought, dreams and desires, until there was nothing left of them, and then filled their empty heads with the past.' The agent considered his next words. 'The successful agents are the ones with focused minds that are dedicated to the Abstergo message. Minds such as mine, sir.'

'I see.' Vidic said. There was a quiet moment. 'Have someone in to end this boy's misery.'

'I'll see to it, sir.'

Vidic nodded, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked from the room. The agent made no move to call assistance or someone properly qualified, but instead stood over the Animus himself. He regarded the subject, with his twitching face and tortured look, and made a decision.

Reaching down, he yanked the cables that fed the subject life out of his arm. His eyes snapped open in shock, and a sharp little gasp whistled between his bleeding lips. His brain began to shut down almost immediately, and his eyes wondered as the nerve endings inside his head began to die spectacularly. He saw was the agent, leaning over him with a dispassionate expression, and he was suddenly starved for human comfort.

'_Fratello? Sto morendo._' He murmured in broken Italian. His fading vision saw the agent make no move to help. He could feel something wet in the corner of his eye – it welled, leaked and ran down the side of his face.

'Help.' He murmured.

'No.' Replied the agent, who lost interest. He walked away from the Animus, and, before shutting the door behind him, turned off the light. He'd have someone see to the body in hour.

The agent was right about that subject. He had dreams. Huge ones, big ones. He was going to make his family proud. He was born on one of the brightest days in South California, and was a good boy with places to go and the world to see.

But now, in the dark, alone in a country he didn't know the name of, that boy couldn't remember those dreams. All he could remember was the numbers, the structure of a network that tore out his soul and wove it into its data, and as his body shut down, he couldn't remember that one thing that was so very important.

Subject 1035 died in the dark, alone in the company of the numbers that couldn't remember his name.

* * *

><p><strong>And here's the twist: after writing Subject 1035's death, I changed my mind about some things. I went back and took out the name I'd originally given him and replaced it with "the subject."<strong>

**It made the experience of writing this all the more harrowing.**

**And that binary code I used? That's no random set of numbers. *Nudges readers towards PLENTY of translators they can use online* **

**Anyway, review! :D **


	49. Chapter Thirty

**I'm back! Miss me? :D Anyway, I would have got this chapter up sooner, but I was in Poland for a couple of days, and now its half term I can update to my heart's content! **

**Which is probably just this chapter and maybe two more if I'm lucky. **

***HEADDESK* **

**Anyway, not too sure what to make of this one. This is the only fic that I've ever written that has a solid plot line, and its been weird not making stuff up as I go along, so I'd love it if you all told me what you think. Anyway, enjoy. :D **

* * *

><p><em><span>March 21<span>__st__, 1500. Rome._

'Right, is everybody here?'

The people milling around the main room of the Assassin hideout looked up to find the Doctor standing in the doorway, beaming and rocking on his heels. Ezio stood beside him demurely, smiling quietly to himself. It happened rarely, but to have his friends and allies all around him gave him a feeling of resounding contentment safety that he treasured. His family stood nearby, looking on with him. (Ezio's cheek still smarted from Maria's reaction to the news that a descendant existed) His recruits had gathered in the middle, the novices looking eager while the Assassins remained collected. Machiavelli stood to the Doctor's right, hands clasped behind his back with a calculating look on his face. La Volpe eyed him mistrustfully from across the room, murmuring in the ear of a trustworthy thief he'd bought with him. Bartolomeo and Pantasilea stood in the corner beyond him, talking with the two eldest recruits, Bianca and Severino. Despite the both of them being older than Ezio, he was proud of the both of them – with a wealth of experience, they had both taken good care of the recruits that followed them into the order. Amy and Rory remained by the Doctor's side, looking expectant.

There was someone missing.

'Wait,' Ezio said to the Doctor. 'Leonardo is not – '

A clang echoed in the hideout – someone had arrived using the underground tunnels. Giovanni held open the door for Leonardo, who bumbled in while taking off his rain drenched cloak.

'My apologies, Doctor,' he called out. 'Cesare Borgia is a man with mean deadlines!' Everyone in the room chuckled as Ezio and the Doctor stepped forward to greet their friend. Behind him, Giovanni flicked back his wet hood and shook his head free of the rain. Zita approached him quietly with a warm cloth.

'_Grazie_,' he murmured, and when he took it, their fingers touched. Their cheeks reddened and they smiled bashfully at each other, but the moment was lost when the Doctor called everyone to attention again.

'Alright, everyone! Let's get cracking!'

The room settled into an expectant silence as Ezio stepped forward. 'My friends, welcome. So much has passed over the last few days, and our view on the universe has altered as we know it. But I am glad, as I am sure you all are, that we can count these remarkable people as our friends,' Ezio motioned to the Doctor, Amy and Rory.

'Remarkable, quite,' The Doctor murmured to his companions as a smattering of applause went around the room, which he waved at while grinning. Amy rolled her eyes.

'But now is time for action,' Ezio continued when the clapping died down. 'The Doctor's arrival has bought a greater threat to our door – the efforts of Templars of the present and future combined. This is the biggest enemy we have ever faced, but I am sure that with the right thinking, we can defeat it. But we need a plan – we need to move now to preserve the future.' Ezio turned. 'Doctor?'

The Doctor continued nodding along, and then snapped out of it. 'Me?' he mouthed, pointing at himself. Frowning, Ezio nodded, and motioned for the Doctor to step forward. He coughed awkwardly and moved slowly forward. 'Ah. Right. Me. Yes. Errr…'

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

'Er, right. Yes. A plan. That's _exactly _what we need. Yes. Well done, Ezio.' The Doctor looked baffled as he sorted his thoughts, and then suddenly lurched into action. 'Yes, a plan! And the plan is this:'

Everybody looked expectant as the Doctor fell short. As the silence lengthed, everyone began eying each other.

'Is?' Leonardo prompted the Doctor helpfully.

'Is…is…' The Doctor turned on the spot, and looked at Machiavelli. 'Mach-Daddy-Veli, where would you start?'

As Machiavelli's eyes widened, whispers began to circulate.

'_What?'_

'_What did he just call him?'_

'I, uh – ' Machiavelli cleared his throat. 'These Templars exist in the future. So I would see what the future is made of: I would check the history books.'

'Yes! Mach-Daddy-Velli there, a man after my own hearts!' The Doctor crowed triumphantly. 'We'll check the history books! We'll go to the future and find anything that can help us! Our adventure, already written out for us! Aha!'

'But surely you'll get caught!' Claudia interjected. 'We have difficulty finding Templar spies now – heaven knows how it is in the future!'

'Ah, but we'll go _disguised_, Claudia! Simple disguises that'll fool all those Abstergo people, watching us! And then, and _then _after we've got the information we need, five hundred years in advance – that's a huge advantage, absolutely huge!' The Doctor countered, bounding forward to grab her by the shoulders and shake her in excitement.

'And then?' Ezio asked.

'And then we figure out how to tackle Abstergo and the Templars, cripple their technology and stop something like this from ever happening again!' The Doctor replied, releasing Claudia to throw his arms up in the air. She teetered on the spot, and Maria caught her elbow and shot the Doctor a reproachful look, which was ignored.

'But will it kill them for good?' La Volpe called out.

'No, no, of course not – this whole thing is just one branch of the Templar empire, it'll take more than us to wipe them out. But maybe we can bring some of your expertise into the Assassins of today – advice from the great Mentor himself! This is going against all the rules of Time, but this is great! I feel so naughty, breaking all the rules,' The Doctor was dancing around with glee, and then he suddenly fell serious again. 'No, but in the meantime, we need to hide. We need to be careful. It'll take one of us going outside, looking like we don't belong and there'll be musicians singing songs of blue boxes and handsome devils in bows that'll go down in history and it'll just take one nosey little Templar to look that up and they'll be able to pinpoint a precise date and we'll be found! But we can't hide in here because if we're spotted it'll be all the more cause for suspicion no, _NO_…' the Doctor frowned deeply, and then opened his eyes again. 'We'll become one of you!'

'What?' Ezio frowned.

'Of course I can't, I'm too clever and too breakable, but you can take Amy and Rory! Teach them to do something, anything!'

'Oh. Great.' Rory said, while Amy glared at the back of the Doctor's head. Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, La Volpe had begun a muttered conversation with his fellow thief, and Claudia and Maria had begun to discuss something in low voices.

'Well, Ponds?' The Doctor asked. 'This is sixteenth century Rome. What do you want to do with your lives?'

'We will take Rory.'

Everyone turned in surprise in La Volpe's direction: he had stepped forward, and the thief he had bought along had settled against the wall and was nodding. 'You said, Rory, that you had spent some time in _Roma _before?'

'Well, uh…' Rory rubbed the back of his head. 'If you count artificial memories of ancient Rome while being a plastic robot then, uh, I guess so?'

La Volpe blinked, and then grinned slyly. 'You are as confusing as your Doctor friend. But, artificial or not, you have something of the Roman about you – a forgettable face with the nose to match!' He laughed as Rory touched his nose subconsciously, and then motioned behind him to the thief. 'My thieves will teach you all you need to know – the basics of rooftop travel and stealing. And who knows? There may come a time again when you need those skills on your adventures – Centurion.' He added slyly – Rory's eyes widened and Amy blushed violently. 'The eavesdropping skill comes standard with training.'

Rory shrugged off his embarrassment and coughed a little awkwardly. 'Yeah. Yeah, alright then!'

La Volpe nodded, and stepped back. Rory grinned happily, and turned to see the Doctor frowning at him and Amy.

'Centurion? _Really?_' He hissed.

'Shut up!' Amy hissed back.

'If you are finished?'

All three turned to see Maria looking at them with an arched eyebrow. 'We have a proposition of our own.' She said. 'We would like to take on Amy as one of our girls.'

'_WHAT?_' Rory and the Doctor exploded as one.

'She has something of the foreign beauty about her. We obviously don't expect her to perform our girls' usual duties,' Maria said pointedly. 'But she would do well in serving drinks and listening to the secrets that drunk men like to tell pretty women.'

'But…but she's my wife!' Rory gestured wildly. 'She's – she's _mine_! You can't - !'

'Who says I can't?' Amy said primly. 'I quite like the idea. Sounds _glamorous_.' She added, grinning at Maria, who smiled and tipped her head in response.

'But…but you can't…' Rory said uselessly.

'Amy – ' The Doctor said, and Amy glared sharply at him. 'Just…think about this, alright?'

'I'm done thinking.' She said.

'Then it's settled,' said Maria. 'If you will come with us now, we will have you fitted for more suitable clothing.' She held out her hand and Amy took it. But as she stepped forward, she was surprised to feel a grip on her wrist. She turned and saw Ezio, who was giving her a very level look as he stepped forward to whisper in her ear.

'You are a married woman, _Madonna_, with a husband who loves you very much. I hope you do well to remember it.'

Amy had no response to that, other than to gape uselessly at Ezio as he stepped back and smiled at her. Rory had followed the transaction anxiously with an upset look, and she threw him a smile that had something of the guilty edge behind it before leaving the room with Claudia.

'Well…right…' The Doctor struggled for words as Rory trailed towards La Volpe with a slump to his shoulders. 'Who's up for a trip to the future?'

Leonardo was barely able to contain himself. 'Doctor, I would _love _it!'

'Just the very man to take to the future! And who else…' The Doctor didn't look far – he looked straight at Ezio. 'Ezio!'

Ezio seemed surprised. 'You mean for me to accompany you?'

'Of course! We've got the brains, but we need, uh, the stabby stab. You know, just in case we run into trouble. You can scare 'em off.' The Doctor told Ezio, waving his fingers at him for dramatic effect. '_So! _We need to get you some clothes sorted. If you come in all Leonardo Da Vinci-ish and Mentore-ish, the guys behind the security cameras'll freak out, start ringing alarms and that won't be good, so if we just nonchalantly sneak in as a couple of tourists, they won't know any the wiser. Perfect.' The Doctor congratulated himself, beaming.

'But Doctor, where are we going?'

'To the best place I know for history,' The Doctor said. 'The British Museum.'

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><p><strong>I wasn't too sure about the Doctor's characterization on this one, please review and tell me what you think :) <strong>


	50. Chapter Thirty One

**WELL HELLO THERE EVERYONE. Sorry about this chapter, its just a bit of a filler as I struggle with bringing the next into life. School work's a bit of a nightmare, but you all know how it is. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway! :D**

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><p><em><span>30<span>__th__ of April, 2012. Scotland_

McDonald struggled out of the building with the gibbering Animus attendant, who was sobbing with near panic and had, if that dampness on his crotch was anything to go by, had wet himself out of sheer terror. They struggled outside, and the attention of a few people passing by was soon drawn by the sound of the man's screaming. McDonald grimaced, and dragged him down the road, hauling him into a nearby alleyway. It got them out of sight, but it didn't help matters too much – the poor bloke was convinced that this was where McDonald would do him in, and howled in fear as McDonald shoved him up against the wall -

And held out his hand.

'Give me your phone.'

'Please, don't kill me! I-I couldn't help it!'

'_Give me your phone._'

The attendant stopped his shrieking, his chest heaving with effort. 'W-what?'

'Give me your fucking phone!' McDonald snapped at him. The attendant started at the growl in McDonald's voice, and with a shaking hand reached into an inside pocket of his white lab coat and handed it to McDonald, who took the expensive looking thing in hand and hurled it against the wall. The attendant cried out as it smashed into pieces.

'That's mine - !'

'They'll have a chip in it, and if I let you go with it, they'll know you're still alive.'

The attendant's eyes widened. 'Y-you're not going to kill me?'

'Our little secret,' McDonald said sarcastically, and then pulled at the attendant's lab coat. 'Take that off. And give me your ID.'

As the attendant shrugged off his coat and stood there with a general aura of uselessness, McDonald systematically broke up his identification card up into tiny little chards, and then ground them all under his foot for good measure. He took the lab coat from the attendant, and then fished in his pocket for something, pulling it out and handing it to him. It was a credit card Maria had given him – a TORCHWOOD standard one: it was untraceable and the credit limitless.

'Here,' he said. 'Don't ask me how, or why, but that thing's got all the money you'll ever need on it. Go get yourself some new clothes, find yourself a better job that doesn't have any shady bastards pulling the strings behind it.'

The attendant gaped at him uselessly.

'Go on!' McDonald barked at him. The attendant took his advice and fled from the alley, clutching the credit card to him. McDonald sighed, and considered the lab coat before figuring he'd head over to the local canal and dump it in there. Abstergo would assume McDonald had drowned him. He was balling it up into something easier to carry when someone jumped on him from the roof. He yelled out as his head and ribs cracked nastily on the hard dirt ground, and fought viscously with his attacker, blocking the jabs he made at his face while yelling at him to get off. But the other man was obviously far more skilled, and landed McDonald a hard punch to the face. McDonald roared in agony and, less able, was easily dragged to his feet and a face he recognised was thrust into his face.

'Kevin? What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing?'

'Giving you a warning,' Maria's brother snarled back. 'You leave my sister the fuck alone!'

'I'm helping you guys out, I haven't touched her!'

'The fuck you haven't,' Kevin replied, and threw McDonald back onto the ground. Before McDonald to scramble to his feet, Kevin landed a foot in his ribs. He grunted in pain and curled up into the tightest ball he could manage, fending off the worst Kevin's foot could deal him. And when Kevin tired of that, he squatted and seized McDonald's front, hauling him upwards.

'Whatever your involvement is in all this, I want you out of the picture when this is all over. The last thing Maria needs in her life is a little dickhead like you.'  
>McDonald spat in his face. 'Go fuck yourself.' He said in his best Scottish growl. 'And then we'll see what she wants.'<p>

Kevin shook him once, and let him go abruptly. When he stood, the two men glared at each other for a minute or two before Kevin narrowed his eyes, and turned to the wall. He scaled it in a matter of seconds, and then was gone. McDonald hauled himself upright, leaning back against the wall and touching his nose gently. Bleeding. Probably broken. He reached for the lab coat, which was now dirty, and wiped a good amount of blood on it. He was a sucker for realism. And then, getting to his feet, staggered out of the alley. There'd be some explaining to do when he got back to work, but his mind was occupied with another kind of explaining.

The explaining he'd do to Maria. Or rather, the absence of it. He'd say the attendant threw a lucky punch. But only because he didn't want to hurt her. Kevin was right – what would she want with a guy like him? He'd duck out of her life when this was all done.

And that thought alone pained him more than anything else ever had.

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><p><strong>DARREN FANCIES MARIA.<strong>

**Talking of which, how well balanced do you think these OCs are? The very few OCs I have are locked away in a private fictional universe and the only contact they come into my fanfiction is when I let them go out and play with my muses - and I never publish them. Maria, Kevin and Darren exist purely for the sake of this fic, literally just made up on the spot, so I'm just curious to what you guys think of them. Do you see depths and sides to them that I don't see? Anyway, let me know what you think! And always, thanks for reading! :) **


	51. Chapter Thirty Two Phase One

__**OH MY GOD. Its been such a long time in coming, but here it is! Chapter thirty two, in eight phases! Exam time's come around again, so _please _be patient while I balance writing with my exams! D: Also, to my beta people: I am _so _sorry for not getting back to you all! I have been incredibly busy recently, as well as having some internet issues! I'll upload the next seven phases in the next week. A lot of effort concerning plot had gone into this, and I'd love to hear what you think. **

**Enjoy! :) **

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><p><em><span>March 23<span>__rd__, 1500. Rome._

Organising their disguises had been an effort, to say the least. The problems had begun when the Doctor realized he didn't exactly know where the TARDIS' wardrobe was, but only admitted it after half a day had gone by of _I could have sworn it was here_ and _I think its hiding_. And then it had been a matter of teamwork to extract the suitable clothes. Leonardo and Ezio had no idea what they were supposed to be looking for, Rory and Amy searched in sullen silence, pointedly ignoring each other and the Doctor sat and insisted unhelpfully that tweed was acceptable for any century. But, somehow, they managed to successfully extract a set of clothes for Leonardo and Ezio, and now they were faced with one last hurdle.

How, exactly, to put them on.

'Leonardo,' Ezio hissed, holding up a pair of trainers by their laces. 'Do you have any idea what these are?'

'They look like shoes,' Leonardo murmured back, examining them briefly as he unlaced his shirt and pulled it over his head. 'But for all we know, they could be gloves in the future.'

'Nope, no,' Rory said as he brushed past them and out of the TARDIS. 'Those're for your feet. And I'm _not _helping you with anything else.' He added pointedly in a raised voice, moving his eyebrows in the Doctor's direction. But his back was turned to Rory as he fussed at the console, and so Rory rolled his eyes and walked out instead. Amy emerged from a corridor a moment later, carrying a man's white shirt and a rucksack.

'I think this is in your size,' she said to Ezio, passing it to him. He held it critically against himself.

'How impractical,' he murmured. 'Where am I meant to put my equipment if there are no pockets?'

'Here,' Amy tossed him the rucksack, and Ezio peered inside. 'That should do.'

Leonardo, his breeches discarded on the TARDIS' floor, hopped over with one leg in a pair of jeans to examine what Ezio fished out of the rucksack. It was a torch, and a moment of fumbling accidently turned it on – Ezio started and held it away from him, shining it Leonardo's eyes, who yelped and then fell on his side.

'_Mio Dio _Ezio, be careful with that thing!' He shouted at Ezio from the floor as his friend dropped the torch back into the rucksack and helped him up, barely concealing a grin.

'_Mi dispace_,' he said, fishing out the torch and handing it to Leonardo after he had pulled on the jeans, who took it with a fascinated expression.

'A way to transport light…' Leonardo murmured in fascination, finding the switch quickly and flicking it on and off. 'Incredible!'

'Careful of that, the power won't last forever,' Amy advised him, and turned to the sound of the TARDIS door opening: Rory emerged with a satchel.

'Stuff for Ezio,' he murmured to Amy, handing it to her quickly.

'Thanks,' she murmured back, taking it at a similar speed. Their fingers touched briefly, and they jumped away from each other. They shared a look of mixed emotions and things unsaid, before she turned away and he walked out. She sighed.

'Is everything alright, Amy?' Leonardo asked her gently. Amy nodded.

'It's fine,' she said, smiling. 'You don't look half bad!'

Leonardo had pulled on his shirt at this point, and was twisting around to examine himself. 'It's a bit dull, don't you think?'

Amy hummed gently in thought, hand on her chin, and then her eyes lit up. 'Here,' she said, taking the scarf from around her neck and looping it around Leonardo's. 'How does that look?'

Leonardo toyed with it for a moment before his face split into a grin. 'It is perfect! Exactly what I needed!'

Amy smiled. 'Good!' And then held up a couple of rolls of fabric. 'And now for socks.'

'_Right!' _The Doctor suddenly announced, spinning around from the console and clapping his hands together 'Are we – _oh for heaven's sake!_' The Doctor clapped his hands over his eyes – Ezio had removed his shirt and was giving the pair of jeans in his hands a confused look. 'Out Pond, out!' He shouted at Amy, seeing her expression through his fingers. 'Leonardo, you stay and – ' in midsentence, he saw Leonardo's expression. 'Actually, you get out as well. Rory!'

'Yeah?' Rory peered into the TARDIS, and, seeing Ezio, his expression changed into a deadpan look. 'I hate you.' He said simply.

'You're lying, I can see it in your eyes,' The Doctor grinned at him as he shepherded Amy and Leonardo from the TARDIS.

'No, no – I do just hate you.' Rory assured him as the TARDIS door closed. 'For starters, you can put your shirt on.' He said to Ezio.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, they were ready. Leonardo allowed the ladies to fawn over his scarf and Amy's good sense of colour, while Ezio stood and fumed quietly after Machiavelli, Bartolomeo and La Volpe had burst into laughter after he had stepped out of the TARDIS, and was still enduring their continued amusement when Claudia and Maria approached him. He kissed his mother on the cheek and hugged his sister.<p>

'Please stay safe, Ezio,' Claudia said.

'I promise, sister.'

'Bah. An Auditore can always take care of himself, whatever century he's in.' Maria said dismissively, but held her son's face for a moment, looking into his eyes. Ezio silently promised her that he would do his best to protect himself and his friends, and she stepped away, satisfied.

'Right!' The Doctor announced after everyone had said their goodbyes. Amy and Rory were staying behind, and were deliberately standing on opposite sides of the room, having said their goodbyes and good wishes separately. The Doctor gave them both a measured look from the doorway of the TARDIS, hoping that for his own sanity they would sort out their row soon. 'We all set?'

'We are ready, Doctor,' Leonardo confirmed as Ezio shouldered the rucksack. The smoke bombs and knives clunking inside of it. He nodded.

'Off we go!' he jumped into the TARDIS, Ezio and Leonardo following him. Ezio stepped inside first, and Leonardo turned to wave one last time before closing the door. Their friends stepped back as the TARDIS began to disappear, enjoying the noise for a brief moment, and then a tense silence settled on them all when it was finally gone.

'They will be alright, won't they?' Claudia asked Amy quietly.

'Of course they will,' Amy said, and because she didn't really believe it herself, said it again. 'Of course they will.'

* * *

><p>'<em>So<em> – ' The Doctor announced as Leonardo closed the door behind him. 'Are you ready for the future?'

'As we'll ever be, Doctor!' Leonardo called to him, grinning. At the TARDIS console, Ezio settled against the railings and tugged at his t-shirt, frowning.

'It's what they're all wearing in the future,' The Doctor attempted to reassure him. 'Depending on what one you go to.' He added under his breath as he started pulling levers and twisting dials. 'But never mind! You'll blend _right _in! Just…just don't _climb_ anything.'

Free running was the last thing on Ezio's mind, despite rooftops being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand. 'Hm,' he said. 'Tell me, Doctor – what weapons are there in the future?'

'Ah, well, I wouldn't know much about that, but I 'spose they're all bit like yours, but a lot more powerful. Hopefully there won't be any where we're going, but don't touch anything, just in case.'

'So, Doctor, you say we are going to a museum…' Leonardo frowned, shaking his head. 'I am not sure that I understand the concept.'

'Oh, museums are big collections of _stuff_. Sciency stuff, history stuff, stuff. A bit like private collections, but, uh, free. But I'm a time traveller, so I don't pay attention to any of the stuff they put in there, 'cuz they _always _get it wrong,' The Doctor grumbled as he reached up to the screen and hung off of it thoughtfully. 'They thought those bones were _dinosaur _bones? Nothing of the sort.' He added grumpily before reaching down and pulling a lever. The TARDIS jolted as it landed, and Leonardo and Ezio stumbled back onto the railings. The Doctor turned around and ran from the console without a word, stopping at the doors and splaying his hand on the wood.

And then he asked a question.

One word: just one little word that he had asked hundreds before Leonardo and Ezio and would ask hundreds of more after them. One word that often meant the difference between life and death and another world that the person being asked had never even dared dream of.  
>And it was this:<p>

'Ready?'

Leonardo looked over his shoulder at Ezio, who with a roll of his shoulders seemed to steel himself and nodded. Leonardo turned back to the Doctor, and nodded once.

'We're ready.'

'Good,' the Doctor said, a grin slowly spreading over his face as he opened the door and stepped outside, leaving it open for Leonardo and Ezio to venture out of.  
>Leonardo waited for Ezio to join him before he went outside, and shot him a nervous look. Ezio looked similarly worried, but he clapped Leonardo on the shoulder and squeezed in a gesture of comfort, Leonardo squeezing his arm in turn.<p>

'We lied to him.' Ezio stated, staring at the open door. He couldn't see much past the blinding light of day, and it was doing nothing to ease the worry that was churning in his gut.

'Of course we did.' Leonardo replied.

And on that matter, there was nothing much else to say.

'After you,' Ezio said.

'_Grazie_,' Leonardo replied, and then walked out of the TARDIS and into the future.

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><p><strong>WELL, first phase over. I've really missed updating. Be sure to tell me what you think. :) <strong>


	52. Chapter Thirty Two Phase Two

**Oh lord. Well, here's phase two. Again, to my beta people - _please please PLEASE _be patient. All these phases are sitting in my doc manager right now as I attempt to revise and meet the upcoming deadlines at school. I have some free time THIS UPCOMING THURSDAY, and I plan to meet ALL outstanding beta requirements then. **

**With that out of the way, enjoy phase two! :) **

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><p>The first thing that struck Ezio was the <em>openness <em>of the space the TARDIS had landed in. With the light of day having nothing to bounce off, it blinded Ezio as he stepped out of the TARDIS, and he threw up a hand over his eyes so that the shadow cast by his fingers would help him adjust. Squinting through the gaps between his fingers, Ezio took in the future.

And it was like nothing he had ever dreamed of.

He had only a moment to take in the vague shapes of huge, towering squares that could be buildings before the sunlight bounced from them and hit him square in the eyes. Dazzled, Ezio's hand fell from his face as he staggered back, his mind reeling. Shadows exploded behind his eyes, and they formed the leering shapes of hands reaching for him, ready to claw and maim. So utterly convinced that he was about to be attacked in his complete moment of vulnerability that he instinctively released his hidden blade, and he was swinging his arm wide to attack the enemies that weren't there when a cool grip clamped down around his wrist.

_Ezio._

Something was saying his name, and Ezio struggled to focus on it. The shadows across his vision cleared, and the Doctor came into focus: his figure blocked the sunlight, and Ezio shut his eyes, feeling foolish.

'It's alright,' he heard the Doctor say gently. 'Just…_breathe_.' He suggested gently as he guided Ezio back against the TARDIS, holding his wrist steady against the wood. Surrounded by the calming presence of the Doctor, Ezio shook his head.

'I was a fool.' He muttered.

'No no no,' The Doctor reassured him. 'Perfectly natural. It's easier taking people from the future back to the past – they've got movies and video games to tell them what it's like, but you've only got your imagination – your wits, your instincts. Everything is telling you that none of this is possible, but believe me, it is. You're doing brilliantly, Ezio.'

The two men shared a brief smile.

'Might want to put that away, though. Could have someone's eye out.'  
>'Wha – ' Ezio glanced down at the hidden blade. 'Oh. Forgive me.' He said, and with a flick of his wrist, the hidden blade was back in place under his shirt. The Doctor let go, and looked around with a frown.<p>

'Where's Leonardo…?'

He stepped away from the TARDIS, leaving Ezio to face the future again. The sunlight wasn't as dazzling as the last time, so it only took Ezio a moment of squinting for his eyes to adjust. He'd been right: those huge squares were buildings. Through glass windows, he could see faint figures moving about inside. Dropping his eyes from the buildings, he took in what was on the ground. Everything was so sparse, and the ground seemed to be made of a strange stone that was covered in black, dirty looking marks. He looked up, and took in the motley mix of people that walked by him. They didn't seem to notice the TARDIS, just as the Doctor had said before, but they freely stared at Ezio with various degrees of disapproving frowns with a few pretty women offering him glittering, friendly sort of smiles. They were a comfort, and he had to admit it: these modern day women were a strange, alien sort of attractive. But he was more overwhelmed by the fact that there were so many different _types _of people. He'd never seen so diverse a place: even the ports of _Venezia_ couldn't beat this strange place and time. White skins, dark skins and coffee coloured skins flowed past him, and they were all dressed differently – some were covered up, and in some cases that Ezio found himself appreciating, were hardly dressed at all.

More confident of his surroundings, Ezio took a few tentative steps forward. The Doctor was running around ahead of him, near frantic.

'This is what I always tell them, I tell them _don't run off _but they always do, they _always _do - !'

Ezio looked around, and his eyes widened slightly. 'Er, Doctor?'

'I've just _lost _the world's greatest mind, Ezio, what do you want?'

Ezio pointed. 'He is over there.'

The Doctor wheeled around to see Leonardo bearing down on a group of hoods, gesturing wildly.

'Oh _god_ – ' The Doctor said, running over just as Leonardo got onto the subject of the buildings.

'Could any of you tell me what your buildings are made of? I simply _must _know – when I get back to my own time, I can use the material for all sorts of things -!'

'Ah! …_Geoff_, there you are!' The Doctor said, his face contorting strangely into what he supposed was a caring sort of look, but instead made him look as if he'd been punched. In the face. 'I was wondering where you'd got to!' He added, grabbing Leonardo firmly by the shoulders and dragging him back, throwing a wide smile at the teenagers in hoods. They stared back at him, and a tense moment went by before the Doctor dived into his pockets on an impulse and threw a few notes of currency he had on the bottom of them. 'Now go away.' He told them bluntly, and guided a baffled Leonardo away as the group began to squabble amongst themselves.

'But Doctor – '

'Don't _talk _to anyone, don't _look _at anyone, and for heaven's sake don't run off!' The Doctor stated firmly, releasing Leonardo and brushing the creases out of his shirt. 'All these people are just _ordinary_ – they don't know anything about time travel and Templars so don't go telling them all about it. They'll lock you up and run documentaries on you ten years later,' The Doctor rambled, continuing to brush imaginary dust from Leonardo's clothes. 'Right! You two, this way. We're off to a museum.'

'And then, Doctor?' Leonardo questioned eagerly as he and Ezio followed the Doctor towards the museum.

'And then…' The Doctor assumed a grim look. 'And then we go find a cupboard.'

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><p><strong>I really hope I get the time to catch up with soon : See you guys on the next update! **


	53. Chapter Thirty Two Phase Three

**Well here we go. Stuff's getting interesting. On with the show! :D **

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><p>The Doctor hadn't had a hope of keeping things in order. As soon as they were through the doors, Leonardo made to take off on his own, drawn to the marble pillars that held up the main lobby of the museum and the oddities that hung from it like mobiles. The Doctor seized him by the arm and yanked him back, snatching a map from the stand offering them and dragging both Leonardo and Ezio behind it, hoping for the guise of some tourists.<p>

'But Doctor - !'

'_Shhhh!_' He hissed, watching a nearby security guard who had turned his head briefly in their direction over the top of the map. He couldn't tell where he was looking past the sunglasses, but the Doctor didn't make any move, watching him keenly.

'Doctor – ' Ezio murmured, who's muscles were aching from stooping over the map. The colours of the silly thing were making his eyes water, and the labels were confusing and agitating.

'_Shhh!_' The Doctor hissed again, his eyes never moving from the security guard, who looked around the lobby a moment more before hooking his thumbs in his belt and wandering off, down the lobby to the front of the queue. The Doctor straightened up in an instant, fixing his bowtie nervously as he talked in a low whisper. 'We can't draw _any _attention to ourselves. We don't know who's watching,' his eyes flickered up into a nearby security camera that lurked in a dark corner of the lobby, eying it distrustfully before glancing at Ezio and Leonardo again. 'So keep your head down, and do as I do.'

Ezio and Leonardo nodded. The Doctor looked at the queue and rolled his shoulders. This was easy. He'd seen the humans doing it. It was just a matter of standing there and…_waiting_. He strode forward, laced his fingers behind his back and proceeded to wait behind a couple who were talking German over one of the museum maps. The TARDIS idly began to translate it in his head, but he tuned out absently, staring keenly at the desk where tickets were being distributed.

And that was when he noticed it.

The metal detector – on the right side of the desk. People were stepping through it, some being pulled aside at random to be patted down and others pulling their shoes back on with sour expressions as they queued to get their belongings back – which had all gone through an X-Ray machine.

Ah.

'When I tell you to...' the Doctor murmured to Leonardo and Ezio behind him, who had stuck close as the queue progressed. The Doctor's hand went into his pocket, and then back behind his back, his fingers enclosed over the tip of the sonic screwdriver. 'Follow me.'

'Understood,' Ezio murmured back. Leonardo nodded, looking nervous.

They approached the front of the queue slowly, and when the couple in front got their tickets and moved off, the woman threw the Doctor a wide smile.

'How can I help?' She asked.

'Yes, I'll have three tickets…'

Ezio and Leonardo watched as Doctor's thumb shot up his sleeve, and the screwdriver gave a muffled buzz. At once, the X Ray machine ground to a halt with a series of painful sounding shudders, the computer sparking. The people surrounding it jumped back, yelling, and the woman behind the desk stood up.

'What the hell - ?'

'Hey, that's my stuff in there!' A tourist shouted, shoving his way through the crowd that'd gathered around the smoking machine. The baffled security guards behind it shook their heads, a couple gathering around the computer and prodding it unhelpfully.

'We're sorry sir, just hang on a moment while we get this fixed – '

'I want my stuff back!'

'We have to wait until the machine starts working again –'

'Screw you, and screw this country!' The tourist shouted over the guard, and shoved his way past a few more people to stick his hands right into the X Ray to grab at his stuff.

'Oi!' The guards shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrenching him away.

'I'll sue you bastards if anything's damaged!'

'Step away from the machine - !'

'_I'll sue!_'

'I think that's a suitable distraction…' the Doctor murmured. 'Come on.'

The crowd and the staff were too engrossed in the American and the battle for his belongings to notice the three men tentatively slip around them all and make their own way into the museum.

For free.

* * *

><p>'What will we see first Doctor? The art of the future? Relics from distant tribes?'<p>

'Perhaps there will be time for that later, Leonardo,' Ezio said, a little testily. For an hour now, they had wondered around in circles, the Doctor's head stuck firmly in the museum map. Ezio and Leonardo had trailed after his bent back for an age now, and Ezio's discomfort with this era was nagging at him to get what they were after. They'd passed through countless rows of the oddest and most impressive objects in gleaming class cases, Leonardo crying out in delight each time, but they hadn't stopped for any of them. Thinking about it, Ezio realised that they hadn't seen any articles at all for a while now – they had gone past a place where there was a range of artificial sort of smells that made Ezio hungry, and he'd spied people doing more queuing before the Doctor had whisked them past it and into a very strange looking corridor. The walls, floor and ceiling were gleaming, and there seemed no end to it. Ezio was about to demand from the Doctor where he was taking them when he suddenly stopped, turning and shutting the map with a decisive flap.

'Here we are!' He said, motioning to his left. They'd stopped outside a door, which Ezio tried – it was locked.

'What - ?'

'Oh, it's simple really. We needed a place to hide, and where better than a cleaning cupboard? And I said to myself, I said, "Doctor, you handsome devil, where can you find a cleaning cupboard?" and I said "Thank you mysterious stranger who looks a lot like me, we can find it near the _toilets!_" and then _I _said "Doctor you clever, clever man, where are the toilets?" and then _I _said to myself, "Well, intelligent people ask themselves intelligent questions, and we'll find the toilets near the cafeteria!" so here we are! Hurrah!' The Doctor finished, whipping out the sonic screwdriver and flipping it in his hand once before pointing it at a nearby security camera – the red light that shone from it slowly died as the camera turned off. 'That gives us a minute or so,' the Doctor said, throwing the screwdriver across to the other hand and unlocking the door with it. He opened the door with a flourish, and motioned to Ezio and Leonardo to step in. 'In you go.'

Ezio and Leonardo peered inside, and saw just about enough room for the cupboard's solitary broom and bucket, shoved right at the back with an assortment of cleaning equipment.

'You seriously do not expect us – '

'Oh _come _on, it's just a cupboard!' The Doctor rolled his eyes and tossed the screwdriver to Leonardo, who caught it a little haphazardly. 'Plenty of room for everyone, look!' he said, stepping inside and kneeling under the broom, drawing his legs right up into his chest and hugging them. Ezio hesitated for a moment before awkwardly stepping inside, pressing himself up against the wall as Leonardo stepped after him, enclosing them all in darkness.

'Do lock that door.'

There was a buzz behind the door as Leonardo locked it. Outside, the camera switched back on. It was a good thing it couldn't pick up sound, because there was much muffled scuffling in the cupboard as people found themselves awkwardly pressed up against doors and walls and buckets.

And then silence.

'Don't suppose Amy and Rory taught you eye spy?'

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><p><strong>Alas, there'll be no updates until Monday - its the boyfriend's 18th birthday this weekend and thus PARTY is in order. So I'll see you guys then! :) <strong>


	54. Chapter Thirty Two Phase Four

**Hangover. Massive hangover.**

**Enjoy.**

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><p>The security camera in the corridor remained on and recorded nothing but empty space for a good six hours after, and was only disrupted when several thumps sounded from inside the cupboard. There was a hushed argument when someone stood on someone's foot, and then the cupboard door creaked open wide enough for a hand holding a screwdriver to silently sneak out and point it at the security camera again. As soon as the red light died and the camera switched itself off again, the door was flung open, and the Doctor tumbled out, groaning as fell against the opposite wall. Ezio and Leonardo wasted no time in following him, almost falling over as they flung out their arms and stretched appreciatively.<p>

'_Never _again, Doctor,' Ezio muttered darkly as he pulled the both of his arms across his chest, grunting appreciatively.

'My _back_…' Leonardo moaned, leaning back with his hands on his hips, wincing when he heard his back crack.

'Stop whinging,' the Doctor snapped at them both. 'You would've thought you weren't used to small boxes by now.' He jumped on the spot, and twitched his head so his neck cracked. '_Right_,' he said, rubbing his hands together before pulling out the museum map again. He paced up and down for a while, turning the map upside down and back again when, without looking up, he threw a finger down the corridor – back the way they'd come. 'That way!' He announced, marching smartly down the corridor. Still grumbling, Leonardo and Ezio followed him, still stretching out their aching muscles as much as they could.

The corridor remained empty before the Doctor's hand snuck around the corner, holding the screwdriver. It buzzed, and the camera turned back on, just missing the flash of tweed as it was snatched back from around the corner.

But recording that the cupboard door had seemingly opened all on its own.

* * *

><p>'Doctor, what exactly is it that we're looking for?'<p>

'None of this stuff,' the Doctor said, not looking up from the museum map as he waved dismissively at the glass cases he was leading them back through. There was something different about them, now that the lights were off and no one else was around. Ezio wasn't sure he liked it. He said very little and kept glancing nervously at the displays that towered over them. His wrist twitched occasionally.

'Then what?' Leonardo demanded impatiently.

'Secret stuff, stuff that the museum people don't want normal people looking at, but the stuff they'll show the right kind of people – the _good _stuff, basically, and it'll be around here somewhere, somewhere hidden, except I can't find it because I'm not being observant enough,' he halted suddenly, and wheeled around on the spot, startling Leonardo. Ezio nearly walked into him, but instead watched as the Doctor lifted a finger and pointed at them both, suddenly incensed. 'You know, I've got a friend, and all he does is _observe_. It gets right on my nerves, because when he sees something he doesn't even tell anyone, he just does this,' with a sour look, the Doctor flicked up the collar of his jacket, and glared at Ezio and Leonardo. 'He doesn't tell me, not even anyone. No, we've got to guess, and I don't like guessing, not when there's _stuff_. So stop whining and start _observing_.' The Doctor went to turn away from a perplexed Ezio and Leonardo, but suddenly turned around, smoothing out his collar again as he talked. 'Actually, remind me to give him a call when all this is done. The last time we met he'd…fallen…into some trouble.'

The Doctor lapsed into a sudden silence that both Ezio and Leonardo found troubling, so they began to look around them. Leonardo saw something, and patted the Doctor on the arm.

'Doctor?'

'Mm? Yes?'

'"Staff Only", what does that mean?'

'Oh, it's just a place where only people that work here are allowed to go,' the Doctor said dismissively, waving the suggestion away before he suddenly realised what he'd said. He pushed in between Leonardo and Ezio, pulling the screwdriver from his pocket and pressing it against the handle. The door unlocked in an instant, and the Doctor opened the door. He wasn't encountered with a corridor as he'd been expecting, but instead a stairway which descended abruptly into darkness. He deactivated the screwdriver and held out his hand behind him, expecting the torch. After realising what he wanted after a few second's pause, Ezio scrambled to take his satchel from his shoulder and awkwardly hand the Doctor the torch. He took it without a word, and shone the light down the stairs.

'I think it might be down here…' he said softly.

Reaching around behind him, he motioned to Ezio and Leonardo to follow him. And they did, creeping down the stairs gently, leaving the old relics to gather dust all on their own.

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><p><strong>So there's an extra reference in there because I have a problem. <strong>

**Excuse me while I go nurse a headache. **


	55. Chapter Thirty Two Phase Five

**So deadlines aren't as pressing as they were, and I'm back into the swing of writing as much as I was. Something I wanted to ask you guys though: not many of you seem to be reviewing? It may come across as a little selfish, but I love it when you guys point out mistakes or tell me what you've enjoyed - you guys are the people that make writing this worthwhile. I hope this is getting into your inboxes, and you're not just bored of this.  
><strong>**Enjoy, anyway. :) **

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><p>The first thing they heard when they got to the bottom of the staircase was boots, marching smartly towards them on a patrol. Ezio was the first to react – seizing the Doctor and Leonardo by their fronts, he yanked them back sharply against the wall, his grip tightening on the Doctor when his sharp intake of breath threatened a gasp that would all give them away. The guard passed through, his gaze fixed straight ahead, and it was only when his back rounded the corner ahead did Ezio relax. The Doctor scrambled out of his grip, smoothing out his shirt.<p>

'Do you _mind?_' He hissed. 'Bowties don't come cheap,' he straightened his, giving Ezio a reproachful look.

'My apologies,' Ezio said, looking like he didn't mean it at all.

'The thing we're looking for Doctor, is it here?' Leonardo asked in a low voice.

'Of course. Well, should be. Hopefully,' the Doctor trailed off, flicking out the map again and sticking his head in it. Rolling his eyes behind him, Ezio altered his vision. Everything changed into blues and purples, and the floor shone with a maze of golden footprints invisible to the normal eye. He worked through layers of the in the seconds that it took the Doctor to decide what way they should take, and he found it before him too – underneath the countless layers of boot-prints, the neat, dim footprints of scholars with sensible shoes could be seen, all leading in one direction.

"_This way!" _he and the Doctor said simultaneously, the both of them then starting at once in opposite directions. They stopped, and the Doctor wheeled around indignantly, only to see the gold in Ezio's eyes.

'Oh. I see. Your…vision thingy,' he trailed off for a moment, lapsing into a second's silence before holding up the map and ripping it in two. 'We'll follow you,' he assured Ezio when he made no movement to lead the way.

Ezio took a moment to consider the Doctor in all his perplexity before turning and fixing his eyes to the ground. The trail of footprints shone out amongst the others – not that he needed to see the others; with his senses heightened, he could hear the heart beats of the nearest twenty guards in radius of them. And so he led the way, and they were unmolested during the silent walk.

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><p>Ezio knew at once that they'd found the room they'd been looking for when they found it. The door shone in gold, and Ezio could feel age. It was a feeling that overwhelmed him slowly, and he suddenly felt older than he ever had done. It was a relief to blink his eyes, and lift his mind from the heightened state it was in. Normality settled over him, and he blinked a few times more to aid the gentle fading of blue and purple in his sight.<p>

'It's here,' he murmured, stepping back as the Doctor stepped forward. He'd been quiet for the entire walk, and Ezio felt he knew him well enough by now to be accurate when he guessed that he'd been sulking.

'Yes, of course it's here, I knew that,' the Doctor hissed back, lifting the screwdriver to the words on the door. It buzzed at a low key as the Doctor moved the light across. '"Archives"', he read out. 'Think this is it,' he added, dropping the screwdriver to the lock. There was a click, and the Doctor opened it.

They were met with pitch black at first, but the Doctor extended his arm, and the screwdriver was only buzzing a moment before the lights began to switch on. One by one, row by row, cases that reached to the ceiling and were stuffed with boxes were revealed to them all; the Doctor, Ezio and Leonardo tipped back their heads to register the size of the place and consider the enormity of the task before them.

'Ah,' the Doctor said. 'Er…Ezio?'

Ezio smiled slightly as his eyes turned gold. The world descended into purple, blue and gold again, and the things that they needed became clear to him.

'Of course, _Dottore_.'

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><p><strong>I'll put up another phase today to even things out, as this one's so short. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. :) <strong>


	56. Chapter Thirty Two Phase Six

**Its another short one, but here's where the plot really kicks in. I'm so excited about this! :) **

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><p>The three of them worked as a very effective team. Ezio scaled the ladders that they needed to get to the top of the bookcases, Leonardo waited at the bottom to take them gently from him, and the Doctor stood back, hissing orders at them both. When they had collected what Ezio found that they needed from the first five cases, they had ten boxes with thick, heavy books that thumped around inside of them as Ezio and Leonardo carried them to a table that was set up in the middle of the floor.<p>

And then they sat down to read.

All the books, they found, were on phenomena and mysterious objects of power that had been reported throughout the ages. The Doctor barely registered the importance of what they were reading, skimming over the pages with gentle fingers, growling in frustration each time he shut a book without finding anything important. Ezio found it strange at first as he went through the books carefully that everything was written in standard Italian, and was about to ask the Doctor before realising Leonardo had briefly explained the TARDIS' translation circuit to him before, so didn't. He didn't want to look foolish. Perplexed, but resigned to just get on with it, Ezio carried on looking through them.

'Anything important, anything at all...' the Doctor muttered furiously. 'Anything you recognise?'

'Nothing, I'm afraid,' Leonardo sighed, closing his last book.

'Nothing in these,' Ezio said, doing the same. Well, it made sense to move on if they didn't find anything. He force his tired eyes into their heightened vision (they'd been aching from raking pages, studying tiny print with eyes that were meant for staring at landscapes and the tops of trees) and gazed at the shelves, disheartened. A couple of cases glowed dimly, but none really stood out.

Except for that one at the top. It was glowing so fiercely that it hurt Ezio's eyes to look at it, and something about it called to him. Blinking the vision away, he got out of his seat.

'Which one is it, Ezio?' Leonardo asked, recognising Ezio's focused look at once.

'That one, at the top. I'll get it.' Ezio stated distractedly, going to the ladder and climbing a few rungs. The top didn't quite reach the shelf he wanted, so he clambered off the ladder easily, clinging to the shelves as he shuffled along. His grip tightened as he neared the book.

'Go on, Ezio! You're nearly there!' Leonardo called up to him, running beneath him. Ezio ignored him for the moment, reaching up with difficulty to take the case. It was surprisingly light in his hands, and for a moment he was unbalanced. With a grunt, he seized the shelf with his spare hand, and took a moment to ground himself.

'Be careful!'

Leonardo went ignored as Ezio concentrated. He shuffled back along carefully until he met the top of the ladder, carefully edging his toes back onto the rungs. He held the ladder with one hand as he clambered down, holding out the book to the Doctor, who near snatched it from him and scurried back to the table with it. Ezio briefly squeezed Leonardo's shoulder, assuring his worried friend that he was fine. Leonardo smiled back at him, and they both went back to the table as the Doctor opened up the book with eager hands.

And then they saw something they never expected.

'Ezio…' Leonardo breathed. 'Do you see - ?'

'I do see,' Ezio murmured, stepping closer.

Because there, on the first page of the book, was a naked figure. And in his hands, he held something spherical that glowed on the page with great blocks of light falling from it. His eyes were glowing.

And the title read:

_SPHERES OF POWER_

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><p><strong><em><em>Oh, "spheres of power". **

**Wonder what they could be. **


	57. Chapter Thirty Two Phase Seven

**Here we are - last phase of this chapter. Thanks for sticking with me as I try to balance all this and my work -but exams are nearly over so I'll be free to update whenever I want then! Enjoy :) **

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><p>'What?' The Doctor demanded. 'What is it?'<p>

'It's an Apple, Doctor. An Apple of Eden.'

'An Apple of _what_?'

'A great source of power that's scattered across the world in pieces like this,' Ezio explained. 'It's what the Templars want. Cesare Borgia has one in his possession that was taken from us, and all our efforts have gone into taking it back.'

'And this book…_shone_, to you?' The Doctor demanded, waving his hands vaguely.

'_Si_,' Ezio said. 'It almost blinded me.'

The Doctor stared at Ezio a moment before diving to the book, taking the spine in his hand and flicking through its pages frantically. Leonardo saw something, because he cried out.

'What?'

'Go back, go back!' He hissed, taking the book from the Doctor and going back to what he'd spotted, because there, nestled in the pages, was a yellow note. The Doctor plucked it from between the pages, and Leaonrdo and Ezio leant to see what was written there.

"_Nice research." _

'What does it mean?' Leonardo questioned, but was met with silence. His eyes went from the note to the Doctor, and found that he was staring at it with a blank look.

'…Doctor?'

'No, no, nothing important,' The Doctor stated abruptly, screwing the note up in his fist and tossing it over his shoulder. Leonardo watched it go with a stunned expression, and was about to question it when the Doctor suddenly started reading aloud from the pages that the book had been left open at.

'"_The Mystery of the Kalaupapa Healings"'_

"_Father Damien, a missionary man with his capability to love stretched as far as his faith, fell ill with the very disease he had travelled far to cure. The lepers he had cared for twenty years prior sought and prayed for a cure for him, but none would come. Not even Masanao Goto, a Japanese leprologist and Father Damien's best friend could save him, and could only relieve his crippling symptoms. Terrified that his work for the lepers would never be complete after his death, Father Damien prayed for a revelation. _

_And one came, when all seemed lost. Two angels, one in white and one in black, came to Father Damien on his death bed, and gave him an object. It was a sphere in shape, with intricate symbols carved into its strange, wonderful metal, and when Father Damien took it into his hands, he was met with peace and freedom from his pain. The angels told him to go to his congregation, and cure them with the object that they had brought him. Father Damien did this, and his people were cured. The angels told him to keep the object safe, and tell no one of its existence. Father Damien did as the angels told him, and no one knew of the sphere, not until he died a man at peace with himself and God. He told Masano of the sphere in a letter he left to his friend, and requested that it be buried with him. Masano did as his friend had wished, and to this day it remains with Father Damien in his final resting place, forever with the peace the angels bought."_

'Doctor, do you see…?' Leonardo murmured when the Doctor had finished, tapping the page with his finger – the words _final resting place _had been underlined with a crude hand. 'What do you think it means?'

The Doctor didn't answer immediately. He had a peculiar look on his face, and Ezio had his suspicions that he knew exactly what was going on – who had left the note in the book for Ezio to find. The Doctor looked angry and sad at the same time.

'It means that something's gone very, _very _wrong.'

And that was when they heard the sound of boots outside the door. At once, Leonardo grabbed the torch off of the table, and fumbled to switch it off. They were plunged into darkness at once, and Ezio guided him and the Doctor gently into the shadows as the door opened wide and shut again. The Doctor could feel the shelves pressing into his back, and could just make out Ezio's face in the dark. He had no problem in assuming that his eyes had turned golden.

Everything was silent for a moment, and then the boots started up again – walking right towards them. A torch was switched on, a radio crackled and was abruptly silenced with a beep. The beam of light was what they saw first, and the security guard followed after. He shone the torch on the desk that had clearly just been in use – the book was still open. Clipping his torch onto his shoulder, he picked up the book and flicked through it, frowning slightly, as if it could tell him something. After a while, he set it down again, and his hand covered the radio on his shoulder.

'Guard SC45. There's something down here.'

'_**Your location?' **_The radio asked him.

As the guard rattled off precisely where he was in the archives, the Doctor felt Eizo tense beside him before his hidden blade whispered gently as it was released. The guard's head snapped up at once, and he stared directly into their spot. The radio remained silent for a moment before it crackled.

'_**Tom? You alright, mate?' **_

The guard didn't reply. Ezio tensed again as the guard moved straight towards them, and the Doctor was shouting at him when he started moving.

'_DON'T KILL HIM – _'

Too late. The guard had only time to scream for a second when Ezio leapt from the dark, knocking him onto his back. The Doctor saw his arm move backwards, as if to stab him in the throat, and the guard went limp under him. Horrified, the Doctor seized Ezio's arm and attempted to drag him back.

'Nobody dies, do you understand me? Not here, not an innocent!' The Doctor shouted, throwing a finger down at the limp guard. He started at Ezio, who stared nonchalantly back at him.

'I know.' He replied.

'You _know?_'

'I do. You were right. An innocent.' Ezio stated, and then motioned at the guard. The Doctor looked, and realised he'd been very wrong. The guard wasn't dead at all. Unconscious, certainly, but not dead. The Doctor could see him breathing, and there wasn't a scratch on him.

'How did you – '

'It was fear. Despite the murderous intent on my face, I had my hand cradled around the back of his head so he would not hit it as he fell.' Ezio explained simply. 'This man did not ask to be here, but it was fate who put him there. It is against my Creed to kill the innocent.'

The Doctor seemed stupefied for a moment as he struggled to understand. Failing to, or something close, he straightened his bowtie nervously and shot Ezio a reproachful look.

'Yes well,' he said. 'A heads up would've been nice.'

'_**Tom? Tom?' **_

The guard's radio was very much conscious, and all three heads swivelled towards it.

'_**Tom? Shit, somebody get down there!' **_

'Ah, think it's best if we go.' The Doctor said.

'Agreed.'

Leonardo was the one to snatch the book from the table as Ezio readied himself for a fight. A few knives went into the belt that Amy had provided him with five centuries ago, and his satchel remained at his side in easy reach. By this time, alarm bells were ringing outside, and they could already hear shouting coming from everywhere. Without a word, they took off, allowing Ezio to lead the way as they raced towards the door. They barrelled back outside into the corridor, and were confronted with a whole army of security guards, roaring at them as they charged towards them.

'_RUN!' _Ezio shouted at Leonardo and Ezio, who took off, carrying the book with them. Ezio's hand went into his satchel, found a smoke bomb, and threw it down the corridor. It exploded on impact, filling the corridor with thick black smoke in a matter of seconds. The guards began to cough and trip over each other as the most of them were forced to stop, but a number forced themselves through and charged at Ezio again, who was already long gone and was running towards the stairs. He was half way up them when they caught up, swiping at his legs with batons and shields. Grimacing, Ezio wheeled around, and, grabbing the rails on the stairs with each hand, lifted himself up and booted the nearest shield. The effect was instantaneous - the guards roared as those in front toppled into those behind, and by the time they had righted themselves Ezio was running out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. The Doctor and Leonardo were waiting for him, and the Doctor was slamming the door shut and locking it when Ezio shouted at him again.

'_RUN! GO!_'

The Doctor and Leonardo took off, Ezio close behind. They were in the lobby and had almost made it when a bullet ricocheted off of a pillar, and everybody ducked instantly – there was a gunman on the balcony surrounding the lobby, and he was taking a few shots. Reacting purely on instinct, Ezio took a knife from his belt and threw it upwards –he was a better shot, and got the gunman on the leg. He howled as he went down, and his gun spun off from the balcony and into the air. Watching it keenly, Ezio ran straight up to the desk he had stood in front of hours before, jumped nimbly onto it and then he was up in the air, reaching out and snatching the gun before landing in a roll. The gun was different to the ones he was used to, but all guns were essentially the same, weren't they? You point and shoot. So that's what Ezio did – when the guards he had delayed on the stairs made it through the lobby doors, he turned and fired into the glass above their heads. It shattered at once and rained shards of glass upon them all, and they were roaring in agony as the Doctor threw out the sonic screwdriver and unlocked the doors. They were flung wide open, and the light and alarms of the museum poured outside. Ignoring anything, they ran straight towards the TARDIS. Leonardo was puffing, lagging behind, and the guards were catching up with them when Ezio hung back to grab his friend's arm.

'Come on!' He yelled, near enough dragging Leonardo along. 'We're almost there!'

The Doctor held out his hand, and clicked his fingers once – the TARDIS doors flew open, and he hung back as Ezio and Leonardo barrelled inside.

'Doctor, hurry!' Ezio called over his shoulder. The Doctor threw himself inside at a similar speed – but not fast enough to miss the yellow note that had been stuck to the door of the TARDIS. The Doctor wheeled back to snatch it off the wood, and was reading it when the guards from the museum caught up with them - he yelped when Ezio seized him by his front and yanked him inside, throwing him away and slamming the doors. Ezio moved swiftly to lock them, and shouted: 'Doctor - !'

'Yes! Right! Daring escape – got it!' the Doctor responded, screwing up the note and throwing it over his shoulder as he ran up to the console. Ezio ran up after him, ignoring it, but Leonardo picked it up and unfurled it again, frowning at what he found written on it.

'Doctor, these are –'

The TARDIS lurched sharply as it took off, and Leonardo was knocked off his feet. The TARDIS turned around him before his head cracked against the metal floor, and he heard Ezio shout his name before everything went a very instant sort of black.

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><p><strong>Huzzah, some more plot! I've never written anything so intricate and detailed in plot before, so I can't wait to find out what you guys think of it. More to come soon - please review! :) <strong>


	58. Chapter Thirty Three Phase One

__**HELLO ALL! And how've we been? Exams are over until next month, I just got over an operation I had on my arm, and I'M BACK WITH UPDATES YAY! The whole of chapter thirty three is going up today in three phases - I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter, what with it being a sort of filler as I got back into the swing of things, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway :) **

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><p><em><span>2<span>__nd__ May, 2012. Scotland._

It was all over the news. The biggest break in of the century. Three men sneaking into the archives of the UK's most prestigious museum and basically helping themselves to exactly what they wanted – which was just one book no one had ever heard of. Why? How? And most importantly – who?

And where were they now?

Maria was one of the select few who knew the answers.

'_More on the museum break in – police are yet to discover who the culprits are, or indeed, where they came from. CCTV footage shows one wearing a scarf and another a bow tie – '_  
>The TV crackled as she turned it over, grinning.<p>

'…_One of the guards attacked by the thieves said one displayed acrobatic skills beyond anything he'd ever seen as he tried to chase them down – '_

Maria was full blown laughing now.

'_BREAKING NEWS – American tourist Bill Smith is suing the British Museum after the ordeal he suffered at the tampering of the X Ray machine at the museum's entrance. Bill – '_

Maria switched off the TV with the remote and threw it up in the air, near cackling with laughter as she unleashed her glee. It landed on the coffee table, on top of a newspaper where a frame of poor quality from the CCTV footage had been released to the press: the Doctor, Leonardo da Vinci and Ezio Auditore were looking brazenly up at a security camera, and no one knew who the hell they were.

And, it'd quite simply, made Maria's morning.

Gasping for air, she hooked her mobile out of her pocket, tapped a few buttons, and waited, giggling softly. When the phone was answered, her giggles rose up into hysterics again.

'Kev – Kevin? No, no I'm fine! It's the Doctor! He only went and broke into the bloody British museum!'

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><p>There were a few elsewhere that weren't as pleased as Maria about the latest news coverage.<p>

Around a desk in the Abstergo headquarters gathered a small group of agents, Darren McDonald and the agent from Texas and Shaun Hastings, who stood demurely in the corner and tried to look unimportant while staring intently at the screen. Hope – hope was unfolding right before his eyes, and he couldn't believe it.

Abstergo had pulled some strings as soon as the news of the break in broke, and Warren Vidic had all the CCTV footage he could ever wish for within a few hours. This wasn't the first time he'd watched it – in fact, this was the sixth. Six whole times of watching the Doctor, Leonardo Da Vinci and Ezio Auditore Da Firenze waltz into the twenty first century under the eye of a hundred cameras, hole themselves up in a closet and then breaking into the archives of the British Museum and helping themselves like three children given a free pass to the candy store.

All without Abstergo knowing a thing.

His fist clenched around the brandy he'd poured himself, and took a slow, deliberate sip. Shaun and McDonald both glanced his way, the pair of them harbouring a secret satisfaction before they both looked up and caught the other's eye. The looked away immediately, wondering what one had been watching the other first. Shaun wished that there was a way he could show Rebecca this, this brilliant thing, but she wasn't there. She was behind the glass, down in the rows of the computers. If he lifted his eyes from the TV screen and peered very closely, he could just make out the top of her head, bowed over her keyboard. The receptionist's note was in his pocket, tucked in a little ball so that no one would dare see it. He knew exactly what it said, off by heart, but he still liked to keep it with him.

_Crane's got the codes. She's breaking into the system. Slowly, so Abstergo don't catch on.  
>She's thinking of you.<br>-R_

The receptionist hadn't given Shaun her name. (Not that he expected her to, either) But he hoped he would be able to find her later through the Order to thank her for what she'd done for him.

And for Rebecca.

McDonald was in a similar mood. Watching the footage on the screen, he could just picture Maria in her flat on her day off, laughing until she cried at the antics that went on the night before. The thought made him smile, and he saw the Texan agent turn his head in McDonald's direction and give a condescending sneer. Bristling, McDonald dropped his eyes to the ground and shuffled his feet awkwardly as he rearranged his hands behind his back. _Fuck him_, he thought. _You just wait 'till the Assassins take this place down. We'll see who's sneering then. _

Vidic put his glass down again, keeping a firm grip on it as the footage on the screen moved into the Doctor, Leonardo and Ezio bursting from the archives and fleeing the guards. When Ezio performed his daring move on the stairs, he clenched the glass so hard that it splintered, making everyone in the room start. There was a moment of tense silence before Shaun ventured forward quietly, taking a cloth and wiping up the spilt drink. Vidic didn't react to him, not even when he swept the glass from the table and winced slightly as the shards cut into his skin and the brandy on them stung. It was only when Shaun stepped into his corner, awkwardly handling the glass and the cloth that he spoke.

'How did this happen?'

Silence. It wasn't really a question. It was phrased more like a threat. Everyone seated around the table shifted uncomfortably, and a few cleared their throats awkwardly, each of them eying everyone else.

'…Sir?'

All eyes fixed on the man on the end of the table at once, his hand half raised as he leant forward. Vidic glared at him from the head of the table. Pitying the poor bastard who'd spoken, Shaun poured Vidic another brandy and left it by his hand. Vidic took it without glancing at him, and pulled it towards his chest, looking down at it as he dipped his finger in and absently moved it around the ice. He sipped from it, and set it down on the table again.

'Yes?'

The man cleared his throat nervously, suddenly realising that he might have been very, very stupid. 'We've been, uh…well, uhrm…'

'_SPIT IT OUT!_' Vidic roared, punching the table with his fist. Everyone around the table started violently, and one man squeaked. The speaker was suddenly motivated to say the whole sentence.

'We've not been able to track Ezio through Subject Seventeen's memories as well as we should. Sir.'

Vidic considered this, and was silent as he stirred his brandy with his finger again. 'And what is that supposed to mean?' He asked, not looking up.

'Well, uh, it means we can't see what Ezio did – '

'I _know _that, you fool!' Vidic spat, his head snapping up. The speaker shrunk under his gaze. 'What does that mean for us? The company that's paying your _wages!_' He knocked a few papers that he had in front of him away, and they curled in the air to land haphazardly on the table and all around the room.

No one dared breathe.

The speaker swallowed nervously. 'That we didn't see this coming, sir.'

'Why?' Vidic demanded.

'Every time we've tried to access a memory sequence, what we get back is hazy. Sometimes we can't even access it at all. It may be that Subject Seventeen is conscious and is fighting the Animus, although brain activity suggests otherwise. The conclusion I – that is, the team and I, sir, that the Doctor may have somehow dampened Ezio's DNA in the time that he spent with him and made it harder for us to access. Sir.'

Silence.

'I see,' Vidic said, as if sighing, putting his brandy aside and rising out of his seat. He planted his knuckles either side of him, and looked down the table at the speaker. 'Do you know what I want done about it?'

'No. Sir.'

Vidic's look darkened. 'I want Subject Seventeen's dosage of sedative increased twofold. I want Scotland's electricity grid hacked into so we can get more power into the Animus. And, more than anything, I want the Doctor and that TARDIS in _my _power before he pulls another stunt like this.'

'Understood.'

'Company dismissed.'

* * *

><p><strong>Next phase up in a bit! :D <strong>


	59. Chapter Thirty Three Phase Two

McDonald walked to Maria's with an eager step. He didn't care that Kevin would kill him for it – he _had _to see her, and tell her of what he'd heard. How _scared _and _vulnerable _Vidic had looked while they watched the CCTV. He wanted to tell her everything, and he wanted to make her smile.

He wasn't disappointed. When she opened a door a minute after he knocked, she cried out and threw her arms around him gleefully. He stepped back a little in surprise, his ribs protesting the impact after the beating he'd had from Kevin, but after a moment's adjusting threw his arms around her too, lifting her off her feet and laughing.

'Did you see the news?'

'Maria, I've seen _everything! _All of the footage from the archives!'

'You have?'

'You should have seen it! The Doctor and Leonardo – they were _legging _it and Ezio fought them off like a fucking _ninja!_' McDonald laughed. 'It was the best bloody thing I've _ever _seen!'

Maria near screamed with laughter, hugging McDonald close again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him, suddenly realising how good it felt. How good _she _felt. Her warmth went straight through his coat and wrapped itself around the butterflies that were rising in his stomach.

They probably would have stayed there forever had someone in Maria's flat not cleared his throat. McDonald lifted his head from where he'd rested it against the top of Maria's, and saw Kevin leaning in the doorway of her kitchen, glaring at him with a look of pure venom. He jumped away from Maria immediately, coughing awkwardly as he sought out to put as much space between her and him as possible. Maria frowned at him before looking in the direction McDonald was avoiding. 'Oh. Kevin,' she sounded a little disappointed. 'Didn't hear you come in.'

'Came through the window.' Kevin replied shortly, still giving McDonald a look full of spite. Maria eyed them both suspiciously, before walking away from McDonald and past her brother into the kitchen, no doubt to put on the kettle. McDonald hadn't told her where the bruises and the livid cut under his eye had really come from, having settled with telling her he'd had some trouble escorting an Animus worker off of the Abstergo premises. It wasn't a lie – it was just half of what had happened. He wasn't sure if she'd believed him had he told her it was actually her brother, and he didn't want to find out, either.

The two men didn't say anything in Maria's absence, one avoiding the gaze of the other, and nothing was said until Maria came back out of the kitchen, carrying mugs and biscuits on a tray. She stood in the doorway, looking from Kevin to McDonald, frowning.

'Is everything alright?'

'Yeah. Fine.' Kevin snapped, shooting McDonald one last glare before he lifted himself from the doorway and sauntered into the living space. Maria looked questioningly at McDonald, who shrugged without meeting her eye as he shrugged off his coat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her linger, but then he heard her sigh softly before she turned away and followed her brother to the sofa.

Something in his heart was hurting.

* * *

><p>When Kevin decided to stay the night, he didn't ask. He would just arrange himself on Maria's sofa meaningfully, propping his feet up on one end, folding his arms behind his head and watching late night television before he inevitably fell asleep. He never even asked for a blanket, and was gone before morning light, often leaving Maria cold toast with jam as a silent thank you.<p>

But tonight was different.

Something was bothering Maria, and she wanted to know what. The feeling had been there since that tense moment in her hallway when Darren had come over, and it had intensified when he had shuffled out of her door a few hours later with no more than a mumbled goodbye, not even meeting her eye.

And she knew it was something to do with Kevin.

In the doorway of her bedroom, she watched her brother watch television. She knew that he knew she was there, but he wasn't saying anything. Avoiding talking. But she'd have it out of him if it was the last thing she'd ever do.

'Darren's bruises weren't from a worker, were they?' She stated. Kevin stilled for a moment, and then she saw his big shoulders shrug.

'Nothing to do with me,' he muttered.

'Don't lie to me, Kevin.'

Silence. Maria knew her brother. He couldn't lie to her – so he'd say nothing at all until she gave up and went away. But this time, she was _incensed_. Something in her wanted justice for Darren and for herself, and she wasn't about to drop it.

'_Kevin!_'

'He's bad news!' Kevin shouted, scrambling off of the sofa and jumping to his feet, gesturing wildly with his hands. 'What the _hell _are you doing with him? Playing Happy Spies, is that it?'

'How _dare _you!' Maria shouted back. 'What the hell I choose to do with the missions _I've _been assigned is none of your business! I couldn't have got half the information I have without him – '

'How about _under _him?' Kevin sneered. 'Could you have got it then?'

There was a silence, and Maria found herself horrified to find that she was crying.

'Get out.'

Kevin's look softened. 'Maria, I –'

Maria cut him off by raising a hand to her window, and pointing. 'Get out.'

For a moment, she thought Kevin wasn't going to move. But then his look hardened, and he stooped angrily by the window to get his shoes. He pulled them on in silence, and then looked at his sister. He was waiting desperately for her to change her mind, to tell him to stay, but she only glared.

'_Fine_,' he hissed. 'Don't say I didn't warn you.'

And then he was gone – out of the window and out over Glasgow.

Maria stood there a moment before she started crying. She couldn't remember the last time she cried. Wasn't it when dad died? She couldn't be sure, but she fell down on the floor anyway, curling up against the back of the sofa and gaping uselessly as she shoved a knuckle into her mouth. She could feel tears, and the ache of loss in her chest. She stayed there for a good ten minutes, sobbing silently before common sense told her to get out her mobile from the pocket of her dressing gown and call someone who could help. She pressed the phone against her ear, her sobs dying into hiccups as the phone began to ring.

And then a mobile rang, right outside her front door.

* * *

><p><strong>Onward! <strong>


	60. Chapter Thirty Three Phase Three

McDonald had been walking for ten minutes when he decided that he would go back to Maria's apartment. He'd never held with that supernatural bullshit: ghosts and sixth sense and the like, but something in him was nagging at him to turn around to go back. He ignored it for another five when he came out of a corner shop, bacon sandwich and watered down coffee in hand, and then it got really persistent when he was faced with the entrance of an alleyway that would lead him straight to Maria's block.

And he found himself pulled along in that direction.

_I'll just – I'll just go check she's alright. I think I must've forgotten something anyway. Keys? Nope, got them. Uhrm. I forgot the pizza boxes! Yup, that's right. Recycling and all that._

Comfortable that that was an appropriate excuse to go back to somewhere that you'd been kicked out of ten minutes prior, he was all ready to explain himself when he was at Maria's door, raising his fist to knock a little awkwardly when her voice sounded from the other side.

_Get out. _

He wasn't sure if he was hearing things. But then it came again.

_Get out. _

That was definitely Maria. And she sounded near to tears. There was some scuffling, a murmured conversation, and then a thump on a roof. McDonald went still in the possibility that Kevin might have some sort of super Assassin radar detection that he wasn't aware of, but then there was a series of several thumps as Kevin took off a across the roof and then supposedly into the dead of night when everything fell silent again.

And then his phone began to ring.

'_FuckshitbollocksChristfuckme!_' He hissed all in one sentence, fumbling for the buzzing phone in his pocket and managing to get it out on the third ring.

And then he saw the caller ID, and started. Tentatively, he raised the phone to his ear.

'…Hello?'

'_Darren? You're outside?'_

He wasn't best sure how to answer that question, so he raised his hand a little haltingly and knocked tentatively on her door, his plastic carrier bag swinging on his wrist. He was still standing there with the phone pressed to his ear when the door opened.

* * *

><p>Darren looked very, very sheepish. In fact, if he were to <em>baa <em>awkwardly, Maria wouldn't be surprised. Neither of them hung up their phones, but just stood there in silence, staring at each other.

After a while of nothing, Darren raised his carrier bag half-heartedly.

'I got a bacon sandwich.' He said, and Maria was crying all over again before his voice rebounded back to her in her phone.

'Oh God, oh, Maria, why are you - ?' Darren said uselessly, struggling with the bag and the phone as he tried to hang it up and reach for her at the same time.

'It's nothing, it's – '

'No no, it's not, you're _crying,_ oh god you're crying – '

'Why didn't you - ?'

'Why didn't I what?'

'Why didn't you tell me it was Kevin?'

Darren didn't want to answer her for a moment. He set the carrier bag down on the floor awkwardly, his ribs smarting, and walked towards her carefully. His heart was in his throat, and the old him would have turned away long before this point. Given up. Would've been afraid. Not this new him. Not the person she had made him.

He gently touched the cut under this black eye. 'This hurt more than this would've done,' he said simply, gently reaching out and brushing the exposed skin over her heart. 'And that was okay with me.'

Maria stared at him as he dropped his hand, searching her face for her answer. What had he been confessing? That he was interested in more? That he was in _love _with her? _Surely _he knew that they couldn't risk it, what with Abstergo breathing down their necks?

For the first time in her life, Maria didn't know what to say.

Because there was a part of her that wanted it too.

_But not now. _

She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She met his hopeful – _not expectant, hopeful – _look with what she hoped was a cool and collected expression. She sniffed.

'I don't want anything tonight,' she said quickly. 'I just – I just want someone to be there and maybe _hold _me for a little while. Can you do that?'

She couldn't work out Darren's look as the hope fell from him slightly. _Disappointed? Expecting the worst and having it happen? _

And then he smiled at her, something small, and she was reassured.

'That I can do,' he said, shrugging off his coat, toeing off his shoes and shutting the front door behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>N'aw. Wee bit of shipping there. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Please review :) <strong>


	61. Chapter Thirty Four

**I won't say much here: I'll leave that for the end. Lets just say that this update is a whole bunch of significant. **

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><p><em><span>March 24<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

Machiavelli posted Giovanni in the hall of the Assassin lobby to keep a watch for the Doctor, Ezio and Leonardo when they returned. He had been fine with the arrangement when the sun was up, but now that it was well into the early hours of the morning, he was beginning to regret it. He teetered constantly on the edge of sleep and an almost comatose state of alertness, the grumbling of his stomach waking him up each time he threatened to doze off. He'd gone without supper, just in case they returned while he was away, and now all he could think about was sleep. Sleep and food. Sleep, food, sleep, sleep, Zita, sleep.

_Zita. _

Giovanni sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as the thought of her sat in the middle of his thoughts and expanded until it encompassed everything else. When this fancy had begun, he wasn't sure, but what he did know was that it wasn't going away and that it was only made worse by the fact that she was his partner outside of the hideout – shadowing the _Maestro _while they went about their own duties. The partnership had been awkward to begin with, what with him already a skilled Assassin and she a novice, but there was something about her that was mysterious. Alluring. It was the gypsy blood, had to be. His parents, nobles out in the country, would have warned him against her type.

And that made him want it just that little more.

He sighed and made an effort to shove her out of his thoughts. Sleep, food, watch. Sleep, food, watch. Sleep, food –

The door to the women's quarters creaked open. 'Giovanni?'

' – Zita!' Giovanni yelped, jerking awake and nearly falling out of his seat, clapping his hand over his mouth. 'Forgive me – I did not – '

Zita smiled, a small twitch of her lips. 'It's fine. I should have not have startled you.'

'I should not have _been_ startled,' Giovanni murmured regretfully. It was true: not only was he meant to be a fully alert watchman, but now he just looked like a fool.

'I will not tell anyone.' Zita reassured him, her smile growing a little more. He smiled back, and then rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

'Did you, uh – did you need something? That is, I will get it for you. If it is in this room, of course. I cannot leave my…my post.' He trailed off, inwardly cursing himself.

'No. No, I require nothing.'

'Nothing? Nothing at all?' Giovanni asked, frowning.

'No. I only wondered that you did.' Zita said, and then she stepped out from behind the door she'd been peering around, and in her hands she held a steaming bowl of soup and a lump of soft white bread. Giovanni stared at her, the soup, and then laughed.

'How did you know?' He asked, grinning as he held out his hands for the soup and bread. She went to him, as graceful as anything, and handed them to him.

'I could hear your stomach from my bed,' she laughed, watching him eagerly as he drank from the bowl. He savoured the soup in his mouth for a moment, and then looked up at her with wide eyes.

'Zita!' He managed after swallowing hastily. 'I did not realise you were such a good cook!'

Zita smiled bashfully. 'My mother taught me a few recipes when I was a young girl. Careful!' she laughed quietly when Giovanni tipped the bowl back, drinking it all quickly. Her laughter escalated when he lowered the bowl and smiled at her with soup dripping off his chin.

'Why are you - ?' he murmured, his smile dropping as he began to paw at his chin. Zita laughed again, and took a handkerchief from her pocket.

'Here,' she said and, leaning over, took a gentle hold of his chin and wiped his face clean. Giovanni went very still, and Zita pulled back to find him staring at her – meeting her eyes, unashamed. And she felt herself gently lean towards him, her hand moving from his chin to cover his cheek and her heart was in her mouth when his head tipped back and they were inches away –

The sound of the universe ripped through the peace, and a wind was thrown up in the hall. Zita and Giovanni jumped away from each other to wheel around and be met with the TARDIS, fading into reality with more haste than what was usual. It had barely materialised when the doors burst open and Ezio stood there, Leonardo's arm thrown around his shoulders and the man himself limp at his side.

'_Maestro _- !'

'Fetch Bianca – quickly!'

* * *

><p>Zita had taken off at once to the women's quarters to rouse Bianca, and inevitably the whole of the hideout. Word was sent to Machiavelli, La Volpe and Bartolomeo in the form of a few fleet footed Assassins who pulled on their clothes and took off to the stables without being asked. Ezio dragged Leonardo past the men's quarters when Rory and Valentino stumbled out.<p>

'_Maestro_, what happened?' Valentino asked, shadowing Ezio as he made his way up the stairs to his room.

'Just fetch me Bianca!' Ezio barked back, struggling up the stairs. Without asking questions, Rory moved forward to help, throwing Leonardo's second arm around his shoulders. Behind them, Bianca burst into the room, a shawl draped around her shoulders and followed closely by Zita and Amy. She rushed past the stunned Valentino, shooting questions at Ezio as he and Rory half carried, half dragged Leonardo up the stairs.

'What happened?'

'A blow to the head – he fell against the floor of the TARDIS after escaping the guards.' Ezio repled, giving her as much information as he could as he struggled into his room. He and Rory gently manoeuvred Leonardo onto the bed, and Bianca pushed past them to sit by his side.

'How long ago?'

'A few minutes,' Ezio breathed heavily, hanging back and watching Bianca as she examined Leonardo's head gently. Her hand came away red, and she shouted over her shoulder.

'I need ice, _immediately!_'

'Here!' Amy replied, having gone to fetch it herself in case it was needed. Rory took it from her, their eyes met, and through their worry for Leonardo they were united again. He squeezed her hand briefly before handing the ice to Bianca, who promptly put it to Leonardo's head as she checked the wound again.

'Not as serious as I first thought. The cut is deep, but not deep enough. Give him a few moments, and he will come around on his own.' Bianca stated, standing and tipping her head in Ezio's direction. 'I will fetch him something to drink, he will need it.'

'_Grazie_, Bianca.' Ezio said, the gratitude clear in his voice as he laid a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, and left the room brusquely. A few thumps on the stairs announced the Doctor, who had finally caught up with them all – he burst into the room and stood awkwardly in the doorway when everyone looked around.

'Is he, uh – is he alright?'

'Bianca says he will be,' Ezio replied.

'Oh. Good. That's good, then.' The Doctor said, obviously relived as he tweaked his bowtie anxiously. He had enough blood on his hands – he didn't need much more – but there was obviously something about being responsible for the premature death of one of the world's greatest geniuses that bothered him. He'd barely cleared his throat when Leonardo suddenly groaned.

'Leonardo?' Ezio was at his side immediately, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and pushing him back down onto the bed gently when he tried to sit up, bewildered. 'Stay there a moment. Bianca is fetching you something to drink.'

'No, no,' Leonardo mumbled, waving Ezio away and sitting up with difficulty. 'Doctor, the note, you _need _to – ' he groaned, and covered the back of his head with his hand as he stood. 'You need to _see_,' he insisted, swaying on the spot – Ezio took his arm.

'Please – '

'_Leave me!_' Leonardo groaned, groggy on pain, and weakly pushed past Ezio. Stunned, Ezio let him go by, and could only follow him as Leonardo staggered down the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall as his head swam. Bianca met him on the stairs and gaped in shock, but he didn't spare her a glance as he pushed onward, aiming for the TARDIS. When he got there, he pushed the door open, and staggered inside.

'Leonardo, what – ' Ezio began to ask, stepping in after him, watching as his friend fell to the floor and began to search for something.

'The – the note,' Leonardo managed, seizing the screwed up yellow note in a weak grip, sitting in the doorway of the TARDIS, his head leaning against the wood as he held it up to the Doctor, who was hanging back behind Ezio. 'Take it, Doctor,' Leonardo managed, breathing heavily. 'Face the truth.'

The Doctor met Leonardo's eye, and with a slow hand, he took the note from him. He smoothed it out, and stared at the words on it.

'You told me – you were the last of your kind,' Leonardo said. 'And if what is written there is true, then our – our situation is graver than you ever anticipated.'

The Doctor didn't look up from the note – he stared at it as the truth of what Leonardo was telling him sank in.

'You – you must act. Before it is too late. For – for us all.' Leonardo finished with a groan, his head falling gently back against the TARDIS doorframe. Ezio knelt by his side, and all eyes turned to the Doctor.

'Doctor?' He asked when he said nothing. 'What does it mean?'

'You better not be keeping something from us.' Amy said darkly, Rory nodding in agreement.

After a pause, the Doctor looked around, holding up the note. What was written was this:

_+20.866638, -156.646667__  
><em>_96742_

_FANCY A HOLIDAY?  
>IN HIS FINAL RESTING PLACE.<em>

The last line had been underlined again, just like it had been in the book.

'These notes…' the Doctor said. 'These notes were left by the one person who could leave them. Time is far more scrambled than we thought, and the situation…dangerous. Everything is at risk of collapsing, all across time and space, and we have to fix things before it all gives way.'

'And who left the notes?' Amy demanded.

The Doctor looked almost sad as the truth came out.

'I did.'

* * *

><p><strong>I REALLY hope nobody's overly confused right now: trust me, everything will be explained in the upcoming chapters. Please review! :) <strong>


	62. Chapter Thirty Five

__**So I'm keeping this filler short and sweet, as I'm sure you're all getting as bored of them as I am. They'll be taking a different direction after this one, so bear with me! Another update is coming after this one, so stay tuned. :) **

* * *

><p><em><span>3rd May, 2012. Scotland.<span>_

Maria woke up feeling safe. And as an Assassin, that was really saying something.

The first thing she knew was warmth – the solid warmth of another human being, and first sleepy instinct was to get closer and wrap her arms around it like she'd never let go.

Things only got real, however, when it hugged her back.

She opened her eyes, and was greeted with a muggy sort of darkness – she pulled back and realised it was Darren's chest she had been sleeping against. He must've gotten warm and removed his shirt during the night, and she found herself admiring what she saw. Not too muscly, but not fat, either. Just the perfect size, really. She looked up and saw him, face lax in sleep. He did look rather funny, and she couldn't' help but smile: his mouth was half open in sleep, and he'd dribbled all over her pillow. Some stubble had grown during the night too, and he looked all the more attractive for it.

She pulled herself out of his grip carefully – he grumbled in his sleep and drew his hands under his chin, going as stiff as a board. His ribs must still be bothering him, and knowing it made Maria feel a pang of guilt.

Kevin. She should call him. But then again, why should she? It was _him _that went behind her back and did what she thought was best for her. No, he could wait – let him sulk for a bit. Some space was definitely needed.

And some alone time with Darren wouldn't go amiss.

She got out of bed carefully, and reached for her dressing gown. She wasn't sure how to go about thanking him for staying the whole night with her, but she had an idea.

* * *

><p>McDonald was accustomed to waking up to the sound of roaring traffic outside his apartment and the sound of his alarm clock, but this was something new – the sizzle of bacon. It guided him out of sleep so gently and sweetly, and he began salivating onto the pillow he'd apparently already soaked. He sat up quickly, forgetting himself, and the pain ripped through his chest – he grunted and wrapped a hand around his chest, and wasn't as quiet about it as he hoped.<p>

'Are you alright?' Maria called from the kitchen.

'Yeah, fine,' McDonald called airily back, wincing. 'Is that bacon you're cooking?'

'Would you like some?'

'Read my mind,' McDonald replied, smiling to himself as he tried to shuffle out of bed. Having spent a night curled around someone else really had not done his ribs any good. He was halfway off the bed when Maria appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray laden with bacon and toast and a pot of steaming tea.

'No, no – you sit down,' Maria said firmly, advancing towards him as if she wouldn't accept any other option. McDonald protested half-heartedly as she bullied him back into bed, but let himself be tucked back in and handed breakfast.

'A thank you – for last night. You didn't have to come back.'

'Nah, I don't need thanking.' McDonald replied, waving her thanks away before tucking in. It was great. Best breakfast he'd had in ages. They shared the tea and sat in companionable silence, sipping from Maria's chipped mugs. A question was lingering, and it was McDonald who asked it.

'So, uhm…Maria,' he said, setting down his empty mug on the tray. Maria looked at him expectantly. 'See, uhm…I didn't do this properly the, erm, the first time. If it can be counted as that. Well, it probably can't be counted at all, so. Yeah,' he coughed awkwardly. 'Don't suppose I could, uhrm, take you out for a drink sometime? Maybe?'

McDonald watched Maria carefully. If she said no, then he'd probably ruined everything. The night before had been completely innocent…but…maybe…?

Maria's face broke into a smile. 'Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.'

McDonald grinned back, hardly believing it. 'You would? You really would?'

'Sure. What's wrong in having a little bit of fun?' She replied.

'That's – that's great,' McDonald said, grinning like an idiot. 'I'll, uhm, I'll text you! Shall we do a Saturday night or something?'

'Sounds good to me,' Maria said, smiling. They shared another quiet moment, smiling at each other over the tops of their mugs.

And McDonald felt happy again.

* * *

><p><strong>As I've said, another update's on the way! :) <strong>


	63. Chapter Thirty Six

**I'm really pleased with how this one turned out! I hope you guys enjoy :) **

* * *

><p><em><span>March 25<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

Machiavelli stared at the Doctor across the table, fingers laced together and resting on the wood. This man – this ultimate being of power and glory wasn't telling them all they needed to know. He leant against the wall, rubbing his palms together and holding the sides of them close to his face as he considered things that were well beyond his control but should be within it. And Machiavelli knew that he just didn't care anymore. He didn't consider his fate, not even for a moment, as he stood and faced this monster of a man head on. He looked up, chewing on the skin of his thumb, and met Machiavelli's eyes. And he knew. He knew under his man's gaze there would be no where left to run. He conceded to the fact that he could hide nothing, and face the truth.

If the Doctor brought all of time and space on his mortal soul, then so be it. So be it. Because Machiavelli refused to sit and play pawn to this false god.

'I think it is time you told us all you knew, or so help me god I will turn all of my power into the destruction of your immortal soul. I will draw out your pain and make it tenfold, and you may run, _Time Lord_ – but know that I will haunt you to the end of your miserable days. I will not stand aside and let you play with my allies, my friends and all we hold dear as if this is all some game. Speak, _Doctor_, or suffer.'

A dead silence fell in the room. Slowly, all eyes turned to the Doctor, who'd stopped chewing on his thumb and was gazing at Machiavelli. There was something imploring about that look, and it begged Machiavelli to let him run away. But Machiavelli's uncompromising look held firm, and under it the Doctor relented.

'I'm more involved in this than I first thought. My past selves – previous versions, that is, of me are leaving me clues. And for time travellers, involvement with other versions of yourself is dangerous. It means that somewhere, somehow, time is scrambled. Perhaps even beyond repair.'

'Excuse me,' La Volpe rose from a dark corner of the room, half raising his hand. 'Forgive me for sounding ignorant, but if these clues are left to you by your past selves, then why can't you simply remember doing it?'

'This face,' the Doctor explained, motioning to his own. 'It doesn't last forever. It ages, and in this body I can grow old, but if I were to ever die my cells regenerate and make me into a new person. Different face, different dress sense, but I essentially stay the same person. When I changed, my past self repressed the memories. They had to be remembered at the right time and place –had I known sooner or later everything would be lost. And with a trail going this far back in time, I'd say that more than one past self is doing this.'

'And how many of you are there?' Machiavelli asked.

The Doctor met his eyes, and there was something regretful about his tone when he said: 'I'm the eleventh.'

'_Mio Dio…_' La Volpe murmured, stunned, as he fell back into the shadows. Bartolomeo, sat in front of him, hefted Bianca up onto her point and rubbed his eyes with his spare hand. Machiavelli's fists clenched, and across from La Volpe Ezio's family gathered tighter around him, and the Doctor could see that Ezio's eyes were abnormally focused. He was looking at him again with his heightened senses, and the Doctor wondered what he was seeing now.

'With so much at stake, and with so much kept from us…' Machiavelli said. 'Tell me, Doctor – how are we meant to trust you?'

The Doctor's eyes dropped to the table. Behind him, Rory swallowed nervously, and Amy reached out to squeeze the Doctor's shoulder.

'You can't.'

Everyone was silent.

'You can't trust me. I'm a monster of my own making – a disease. A parasite. I bring death wherever I go. In far off galaxies and centuries, there are people who teach their children to run when they hear the word _Doctor_. Some use it when they speak of warriors. It was never my purpose to make an arsenal out of this universe, but everywhere I go falls to ruin. The people I find fall to ruin. I don't heal – I destroy. And that's why I keep running. Avoiding the truth. Unable to face the people I leave behind.'

Machiavelli didn't pause in answering. 'Then run away, Doctor. And leave us to our own making.'

'I cannot let you do that.'

Every eye turned in the room at once to Leonardo, who raised himself with some difficulty to his feet. Ezio watched him very carefully, anxious that he might fall. He rested his hands on the table, and took a deep breath.

'The Doctor is all we have in defeating the Templar threat. Without him, we are nothing.'

'We have done well enough without him. As much as I respect you, Leonardo, we don't need his meddling.' Machiavelli argued. Leonardo nodded peacefully, but argued regardless.

'The Doctor has done no wrong – not that my old eyes can see. I do not mean to disrespect you, but you are still so young Niccolò,' Leonardo said gently, as Machiavelli's mouth set itself into a grimace. He looked away. Leonardo smiled sadly, and turned his head to give the Doctor the same look. 'I know an old man when I see one. And I also see a friend who has been pulled into things that he would much rather avoid – despite the power he has.' Leonardo stepped forward carefully, taking measured steps, and held the Doctor's hand in his own. The Doctor looked on, stunned, as Leonardo Da Vinci stood before him. 'As long as you are here and I see it fit, I will stand beside you, _Dottore_. Until the very end.'

The Doctor was lost for all words but a few. 'I can't ask you to…'

'You can ask nothing and expect nothing. You may only hope, my friend.' Leonardo replied grimly, turning to face the room again. All was silent. 'So you mean for us to divide? We will achieve nothing in our fight if we squabble amongst ourselves.' Leonardo called to the room. He was met with silence again before Pantasilea stood from her seat beside Bartolomeo.

'I stand with you.' She said. Bartolomeo was roused at once, eyes wide with shock.

'Pantasilea - !'

'I love you,' Pantasilea stated, cutting him off, even though her pain was evident. 'But I will not see our stance on this war weakened. I will not have us fight each other when there is a common enemy out there. And all the while we are divided I go with the only hope we have in winning this impossible war.' And with that, she inhaled sharply and strode smartly towards the Doctor and Leonardo. Leonardo squeezed her hand when she stood next to him, and she faced the room with her head held high. 'Anybody else?'

It was only a moment before Bartolomeo stood abruptly, his hand twisting around the hilt of Bianca nervously. All eyes fixed on him immediately, and he shrugged helplessly before making his way sheepishly over to stand by his wife. Pantasilea visibly relaxed with him next to her, and the tension in the room changed.

'Volpe?' Leonardo called to the lurking shadow in the corner. 'Will you join us?'

'I am a thief. My best interests will reside with the winning party.'

Machiavelli shot him a look of deep distrust – La Volpe shrugged luxuriously and settled back against his wall, watching the goings on with a keen interest. Slowly, and inevitably, all eyes turned to Ezio. He blinked his senses away, having stared at the Doctor long enough to give himself a headache.

'Well, Ezio? You are _Maestro _of this Brotherhood. Your say in this will sway us all.' Machiavelli said, the challenge lurking gently under his words, waiting to rear its ugly head. Ezio glanced down at his sister, who looked from the Doctor and to her brother to shrug helplessly. Smiling sadly back at her, Ezio turned to his mother, who's hand reached up for his shoulder and patted it. Her faith in her son was obvious. He would do the right thing.

Ezio cleared his throat. 'When I look at you – Doctor – through my other eyes, I am not sure what I see. When I see a friend, I see a threat. And when I see a place to hide, I also see a cause to run. Such unreliability and danger would make any sane man fear you.' He stated, and the Doctor understood. His head began to lower, and he'd backed away from the table when Ezio began to speak again.

'But as an Assassin, I see an ally.'

He left his mother's and sister's side to approach the Doctor. He reached out and grasped the Doctor's shoulder while taking his hand and bringing it up between them, shaking it as he spoke. 'You and I both have a common interest, Doctor. For me, it is my family and my Brotherhood. For you it is your friends and all we know. But we both live to protect what we love above all.'

Ezio stepped closer.

'No more lies, _Dottore. _No more secrets. You tell us all we know, and we will tell you what we can. We work _together_, not apart, and then we shall have victory.'

There was a moment when the Doctor said nothing at all, but a smile spread slowly over his face and he doubled his grip on Ezio's hand.

'Victory,' he agreed.

Ezio smiled, and shook his hand once as Leonardo slowly approached them both. He held up the yellow note between his fingers, and the Doctor sprang into action.

'Yes, of course! Clever Leonardo, always thinking ahead! Of course I'm always thinking double ahead, but still,' The Doctor skipped past, snatching the note from Leonardo and missing the man's quiet smile. '_This_…is a clue. And _clues _lead to things, and I should understand these clues because they were in fact left by me, and _clearly _I was in a funny mood because I've just made a great big mystery, which I'll admit isn't very helpful but makes these things just a bit more _fun._' The Doctor danced up to Machiavelli, who stepped back as the Doctor invaded his personal space. He blinked as the note was waved in his face. 'What are these numbers, Mach-Daddy-Veli? You've seen them before, you lot have maps.'

Machiavelli, stunned, took the note and looked at the things written on it. 'The second set of numbers are like nothing I have ever seen before, but the first set are coordinates.'

'_COORDINATES!_' The Doctor shouted with glee, startling everyone in the room. 'But that's no good, it's all well and good telling me _where _to go but _when _– '

'Give me that,' Amy snapped, striding across the room and taking the note from Machiavelli, reading it a few times over before speaking. 'Well, you've said _holiday_. Sounds like normal time, right?'

The Doctor strode over and, leaning close, delicately took the note back. 'Amelia Pond, you should know by now that there's no such thing as normal time.' He said in a low voice, spinning around just as she opened her mouth to argue. 'But you're right – holiday probably means _modern _times,' the Doctor grinned at Amy, who glared at him. 'But what does that last bit mean? And what about the other numbers?'

'I say that we do not bother ourselves with those numbers for now, but focus on those coordinates,' Ezio said, waving his hand. 'The message, Leonardo – what was it?'

'"_In his final resting place"_' Leonardo quoted. 'That has to be a grave. That cannot mean anything else.'

'But what's in there?'

Leonardo thought for a moment before taking the book they had stolen from the museum, having left it on the table. He opened it at the page they had found the first note stuck to, and pushed the open book across the table. Everyone gathered around it to scan it for clues.

'"…_and to this day it remains with Father Damien in his final resting place, forever with the peace the angels bought."_' Leonardo quoted absently. 'Ezio, this is a book on Pieces of Eden. It surely cannot mean – '

'But it seems to be so!' Ezio said, clearly startled.

'What? What does it mean?' Claudia demanded.

'It means that there's one of your Pieces of Eden in the grave of an old priest,' the Doctor suddenly said. 'And I want us to go and get it.'

Everybody stared at the Doctor, who grinned after a pause.

'And the best kind of advice is always your own.'

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><p><strong>As I say, I really like how this one turned out - so please review and tell me what you think! :) <strong>


	64. Chapter Thirty Seven

**ITS SO GOOD TO BE BACK. After trying to use PowerPoint at school on my laptop, my hard drive crashed and I nearly lost EVERYTHING I'VE WRITTEN EVER. Its been slow in coming back to life, but my computer whizz of a dad has managed to restore everything to what it was, and all my files were saved! So expect more updates at their old regular rate! :D **

**Anyway, to this chapter: after some really concrete advice from a reviewer who put what I was thinking in words, I'm taking my fillers in a different direction - mostly away from Darren and Maria. I hope you enjoy them, and you guys can expect a LOT of past stuff to come. **

**Enjoy! :D **

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><p><em><span>5<span>__th__ May, 2012. Scotland._

'You really have nothing to tell me?'

In front of Vidic's desk stood the man in the motorcycle helmet, who had his hands behind his back and a stiff posture. He didn't make any move to answer. In fact, he didn't move at all. Vidic grimaced in frustration, and from behind his desk stared out at the workers. His eye fell on Crane for a brief moment – she looked as empty as ever, the spirit sucked right out of her. As he turned, his eyes met Hastings' for a moment, who stood in the corner as he'd been instructed. Vidic saw something he didn't like – a flash of resilience and defiance. Hm. Something was going on here that he didn't know about, and Vidic was a man who liked to know everything.

'Nothing in the Scottish government? The local Assassin activity?'

The man in the helmet remained silent.

'Nothing at all?'

Silent again.

'Darren's activity?' Vidic tried. And then – success! The man in the helmet tilted his head ever so slightly. Vidic was incensed. 'Show me!'

The man in the helmet reached into his pocket, and took out a memory stick before laying it on the table. Vidic snatched it up and put it into his computer, accessing the files stored on it in an instant. A video loaded, and he was watching footage that was slightly curved in format, having been recorded right out of a visor. It was watching a corner lit dimly by a flickering street light, and the footage abruptly tilted when a figure struggling with boxes emerged around the corner and the man in the helmet dived around his corner. The footage tilted again after a moment, and Vidic was looking at McDonald's lanky figure struggling with what looked like pizza boxes as he pressed an intercom on a block of flats. There was a moment of silence and feedback before the intercom was answered. McDonald's voice was heard dimly, and Vidic grimaced again.

'Rewind, increase volume and decrease background noise,' Vidic demanded from the computer. It obliged instantly, and Vidic heard a brief conversation.

'_I've got the pizzas,' _

'_**About time, I'm starving.' **_A female's voice replied in the intercom.

'_Freezing my bollocks off out here.' _

'_**Lovely.' **_

The door was opened, and McDonald struggled through before shutting the door behind him. The footage continued to run a few minutes longer, just in case he came back out, but then the watcher swung around and walked the other way. The video stopped.

Vidic took only a second.

'I _know _that voice…' He said slowly, his brain throwing up dim memories of someone blonde handing him coffee and saying _yes sir _and _no sir _and _those files will be up with you in a moment sir_. He knew this woman – he _knew _her! But who was she?

He looked up at the man in the helmet, who had remained as silent as ever. 'It's time. Activate the microphone.'

It had been so easy to place. A moment where he'd forgotten his coat, nearly gibbering in fear, and all Vidic had to do was pick it up and slide that neat little device in under the collar. He never thought he'd have to activate it but, well – it seemed like McDonald was giving them more trouble than previously thought.

The man in the helmet didn't respond, but turned on his heel and went smartly from the room. Vidic watched him go, and then he raised his eyes to the corner. Oh. Oh – ho! There was Hastings! Shaking in fury and _glaring _at him! He almost laughed.

'Oh? Mr Hastings? Do we know anything about this?'

Hastings didn't answer, but his glare didn't falter either. Vidic chuckled gently, and made his way over to him. He was quite a bit shorter than Hastings, but that was no matter when it came to intimidating. Warren Vidic was a man who knew how to intimidate.

'Thinking about warning someone, are we? No, no, don't answer,' Vidic said airily. 'I can see it in your eyes. Got someone to protect, have you? Or has someone promised you protection? Oh my, Mr Hastings – don't you know that in the end, all promises are empty?'

Hastings didn't answer. Vidic stepped closer.

'There's no one quite like her, is there? Blue eyes, hair like the night, a quick and witty tongue. She's quite a desirable woman. Not just to you –to a good handful of staff members, too. The guards. The brute force…' Vidic allowed himself to trail off, enjoying Hastings expression of defiance become one of anger and horror, the sound of air rushing in and out of his nose and the shaking. Oh, the shaking. 'Warn anyone about this, and I'll let who I like have his way with her. And then I'll give you a gun – ' he abruptly stopped to seize Hastings' front, yanking him down towards his level. Powerless and scared, Hastings stumbled forward and found himself nose to nose with Vidic and his cold little eyes staring into his soul. 'And I'll _make _you do it.'

Silence.

'Am I understood?'

Shaun nodded.

'I can't hear you.'

'Yes sir,' Hastings managed. Vidic released him, and brushed some dust from his shoulder.

'Good man,' he said, patting his shoulder before striding out of the office. 'There's a meeting in the conference room in about half an hour. Tea and coffee would be wonderful,' he called over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.

Hastings fell back against the wall, covering his mouth with one hand as he shook uncontrollably. Oh god. There was nothing he could do. In one last act of desperation, he looked up out of the window, and saw Rebecca's head turned straight towards him.

Had she seen?

Did she know?

He staggered over to the window, and pressed his hand against it, staring at her like a starving man staring at bread. She stood abruptly in her seat, looking up at him, and Shaun could only watch as the guards at the end of the room strode smartly to her side and forced her back into her seat with heavy hands on her shoulders. She submitted, almost looking as if she's been snapped out of some state, but she still craned to see Shaun in the office. Shaun sank to his knees. Oh god. Could she get word to the Receptionist? They had to tell someone – they had to know -!

And then he saw her. Rebecca. Shaking her head in the tiniest tilt.

She knew.

And she was telling him to do nothing.

With a choked sob, Shaun put his face in his hand and began to cry.

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><p>She'd been threatened, Rebecca knew that much. Shaun wouldn't have been acting like that had she hadn't. With what? Death? Rape? She could take it all. But she knew these people. She knew Abstergo. Security would be tightened and <em>everybody <em>would be watched, even the people doing the watching. She could trust no one, and they could say nothing – only hope that the Receptionist was observant enough to notice the changes in security.

And so that was why she told Shaun to do nothing with the slightest, meaningful shake of her head. It was almost physically painful to watch him break down as he lost all hope. She wanted to get up out of her seat again, run to his side and hold him tightly, but if she tried that again she'd be shot in the head, no questions asked. She could only watch painfully as Shaun's other hand fell from the glass as he drew into himself, shuddering. After a moment he staggered to his feet, cast one desperate look in her direction, and took himself out of Vidic's office.

Rebecca looked back at her computer.

She felt wet on her cheek, and she brushed it away hastily.

It wouldn't do her any good to show any weaknesses.

Not here.

Not now.

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><p><strong>There'll be a lot of updates later in a way of catching up, there's some stuff I have to do first before I sit down and write, but there will be updates nonetheless! So please do give a review, and let me know what you think. :) <strong>


	65. Chapter Thirty Eight Phase One

__**Oh ho, do I have some updates for you guys. Another one to come right after this, enjoy! **

_**SOME QUICK TRANSLATIONS: **  
><em><strong>Resta ancora, animale stupido<strong> -____

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><p><em><span>March 25<span>__th__, 1500. Rome, in the small hours of the morning_

In the warmth of the stable, the mare slept on, heedless of the rain pounding down outside. She was content to sleep standing, dreaming of open fields, the inner streets of _Roma _and the stable boy, who was kind to her. He'd given her some extra hay for her stall that night, mindful of the cold, and had fed her an apple before stroking her nose fondly and departing to bed. And she was content like that, that night, until the door of the stable was thrown open and the wind was let in. She felt the cold and the specks of rain, and woke indignantly, only for her eyes to fall in the hooded figure standing the door. He carried no light, and only stood for a moment, watching her. Her eyes rolled in fright, and she nickered softly as he approached with a purpose that hurried him. Being closest to the door, he went for her stall, opening its door and going inside. She moved away from him, stirring anxiously as he snatched he saddle and reins from the wall, and slapped the former onto her back, tightening the straps far tighter than was comfortable. She snorted unhappily and moved away from him again, and he swore at her.

'_Resta ancora, animale stupido,_' he hissed, forcing the bit of the reins in between her teeth. She tossed her head back, neighing unhappily, only for him to grab hold of the leather straps and yank her head back down to his level. Forced to remain still, the straps on her head were tightened beyond comfort, and when that was done, she was dragged from her stall. She was reluctant to move, and all the man could do at first was drag her head forward – it stuck out of the stall like a stalk.

'_Vaffanculo!_' he swore again, and with a whip that he seized from its rack, struck her on her flank. The mare recoiled, and neighed sharply. The other horses in the stable stirred at once, answering her with soft nickers. The man froze, and looked around at the small buzz of activity that reminded him that things could go beyond his control. Changing his tactics, he turned back to the mare and clicked impatiently – unwilling to feel the whip again, she came forward, and was promptly led hurriedly out into the rain. She stood, afraid, while the man shut the doors of the stable again, and then tugged on her reins.

She followed as he led her well outside of the Assassin hideout, and only then did he mount her and ride away.

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><p><strong>More right on the way! :) <strong>


	66. Chapter Thirty Eight Phase Two

**So, I hope you like this one. Next update will be the final phase, and all will be explained! **

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><p>Valentino rode harder to the <em>Castello <em>than he ever had before. The rain lashed down on the empty streets of _Roma_, soaking him right through his thin cloak, but he paid no mind to it – his mind was full of the thundering of the mare's hooves on the cobbles and the fact that another Apple existed.

His Lord had to be told. At once.

He rode across the bridge unmolested, but as he rode to the front of the _Castello's _bulky and intimidating figure, two guards came out from where they had been skulking out of the rain, rising their pikes and hands and shouting at him to stop. Snarling in impatience, Valentino yanked on the mare's reins sharply: she neighed unhappily as she reared, startling the guards, who stepped back warily as she came back down onto the cobbles heavily. Their boots were splashed by the puddles that sprang up around her feet. Valentino yanked back his hood, feeling the rain strike his face over and over as he reached into the front of his robes and snatching the token around his neck – a cross, studded with rubies. His lord's token. He held it up to the guards, where it glimmered dimly in the rain and spun on its silver chain.

'Fetch Il Lupo for me! At once!'

Their defence having dropped as soon as the token was revealed, one guard nodded and ran into the inner courtyard. The other attempted to take Valentino's reins from him and lead him inside, but he was rewarded with a snarl and a boot to his chest. He staggered back as Valentino whipped the reins and spurred his mare into another gallop, bursting into the _Castello _just as the first guard opened the doors. At the command of his hands, the unhappy horse skidded to a stop as Valentino came down from her back and began to tug on her reins relentlessly, heading towards the dim figures of the stables – the door to the kitchens opened, throwing out an orange light, and a figure that Valentino recognised rushed out of the warmth, helping him drag the mare to the stables.

'Brother?' Il Lupo shouted at him over the rain. 'What - ?'  
>'Wake our master!' Valentino shouted back. 'I have news!'<p>

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><p>'…And so I came here at once, my lord.'<p>

Valentino stood in front of Cesare Borgia's chair, steadily dripping rain on the expensive carpet. Cesare had been displeased to having been woken at such an hour, but had graciously agreed to entertain Valentino at the mention of news on Assassin activities. Even though he was dressed in breeches and a loose shirt, he still made an imposing and powerful figure, lounging in his wide chair and listening to what Valentino had to tell him, only asking questions here and there as Valentino recounted his listening at the door of the Assassin's meeting as best he could. Valentino finished his recount, and stared at Cesare with awe. How could one man be so calm, when faced with news of his enemy's powerful resources? Such a man was surely a god, and not for the first time, Valentino felt a thrill of pleasure of being in this man's presence – of being _wanted _in this man's presence.

'So our enemy seeks another Apple.' Cesare murmured at last, inspecting his finger nails idly.

'_Si, si, _my lord.'

Cesare hummed in thought, rubbing some imaginary speck of dust between his fingers, and then flicking it away. 'Then the question is…what do we do about this?'

And then he held out his hands either side of him, hanging over the chair indulgently and smiling at Valentino with a wicked sort of smile – as if the two of them were sharing a private joke. Valentino grinned uncertainly back at him (it wasn't unlike a chimp grinning in fear) when two blue lights came on in the darkness. They fading in to a harsh glow, and Valentino didn't know why, but he suddenly felt a cold terror – it started from the top of his head and dripped slowly into his boots. He wanted to run away and run forever and never look back but something inside him held him still and whispered softly to his mind that there was no point, because there was no escaping those awful, awful lights.

And then the lights came forward with a whirr. Two metal bodies rolled out of the darkness either side of Cesare's chair, with objects that he didn't recognise sticking out of them, and he saw that the ice blue lights were on stalks that waved with a buzz as they fixed on Valentino. He gape at them, shaking as the adrenaline he would never use surged through him.

And then the metal things spoke.

'WE ARE THE DAL-EKS.' The one on the left said.

'AND WE ARE THE ANS-WER.' Said the other.

And between them, Cesare sat. Smiling, smiling, and smiling.

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><p><strong>RE-VIEW!<strong>


	67. Chapter Thirty Eight Phase Three

**JESUS EVERYONE HELLO. God, how long has it been? Anyway, there is a HUGE HUGE HUGE amount of stuff going on in my life right now, some of it bad, and its nothing I can't fight through. And my first stop is here - updates! I'll try and make two tonight, maybe more, and I have some outstanding beta'ing to catch up on by tomorrow as well. Anyway, please enjoy! :) **

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><p>Valentino was silent at first, because he couldn't trust himself to speak. He shook all over, his heart lodged itself in the roof of his mouth, and oh <em>Dio <em>did he want to run. If almost instinctively, he reached up to the cross he wore as a token of Cesare's and a token of his faith and clutched it so tight that it hurt his hand. His wide eyed stare was so fixed on the Daleks that he failed to notice the way Cesare's eyes fixed on the action: his eyebrows went up a little, and the corner of his mouth jerked upwards, pleased with Valentino's reaction.

'My…my lord…' Valentino managed, swallowing heavily. Those horrible lights seemed to focus on him again, twitching slightly in their stalks. Their whirr made him start. 'I…I don't understand…'

'I have been blessed, my friend!' Cesare announced, lowering his hands and leaving his arms on the rests of his chair. 'The assassins may have their Doctor, but all the while I have the Daleks, I have the _cure!_' He smiled, fanatic and incensed. 'Daleks!' At once, the stalks swivelled so that they were looking at Cesare, pointing downwards. He smiled up slowly into the one on the right, reaching up and running a finger down the stalk. 'Tell Valentino of how you came to me. Of how you and your kind _pledged _themselves to me.'

The Daleks did nothing, but the lights refocused, seemingly in thought. The whirr made Valentino start again, and when they raised their stalks to look at him, he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

'WE OB-EY.' Said the Dalek on the left. The voice was a mix of the all the sounds you don't want to hear at night – a grating, mechanical sound. Valentino was terrified of it, and he murmured a little as the two Daleks rolled forwards. They stopped with a little lurch, and now in the light, Valentino saw them in full – strangely shaped and covered with bumps on their lower parts, he couldn't comprehend how they worked. How they moved. How they breathed.

Or if they even did.

'WE SENSED A GREAT POW-ER AC-ROSS THE UN-I-VERSE.' Said the one on the left.

'WE CAME SEEK-ING ANS-WERS.'

'AND FOUND THAT THE GREAT POW-ER BELONGED TO A MAN EVEN GREAT-ER.'

At this, Cesare lifted his head, and smiled indulgently. He believed them, and every word they said. But Valentino found something nagging at him through the blind fog of terror in his mind – something wasn't _right_. Creatures like this surely bowed to no man? But Cesare reassured him with his dark eyes, and Valentino tried to tell himself he was reassured.

'WE HAVE PLEDGED OUR-SELVES TO CES-ARE BOR-GIA.'

'HE LENDS HIS POW-ER TO HELP US RE-BUILD OUR RACE AF-TER IT WAS DE-STROYED BY THE DOC-TOR.'

Valentino caught the little tremor in the Dalek's voice as it said the Doctor's name – was it afraid? Was this creature of power afraid of one man? Before he could question it, Cesare lifted himself from his chair in a graceful move, and came down the small stairs that led up to it.

'Do you see, Valentino?' He asked his spy as he came to stand between the Daleks. 'The Assassins' Doctor is evil. He is a _destroyer_ of worlds and races. He is a man not to be trusted, if he is a man at all.' Cesare motioned at the two Daleks. 'And what is a man, if he is not one? How can he be beaten? How can I crush him, like others who have opposed me?' His voice lowered, and he caressed the head of the Dalek next to him, almost fondly. 'The Daleks tell me that they have tried to kill him. They fought a great war, hidden away somewhere in the skies in an effort to eradicate him, but still he lives. To run away another day…' Cesare lifted his eyes to Valentino's. 'But they say that with my Apple, that they can do it. That they can finally _kill _the Time Lord who has held domain over this universe as if he has the right. And they can eliminate the Assassin threat once and for all.'

'THE UNI-VERSE WILL BE FREED FROM THE DOC-TOR.'

'AND CES-ARE BOR-GIA WILL BE FREE TO RULE ALL.'

'The Daleks have promised me planets and civilisations to rule at my command. But we shall see.' He said dismissively, but Valentino could see the spark in his eyes – the greed that accompanied the whole concept of planets and civilisations being his to rule. And it terrified Valentino. With his whole concept of everything that had ever been mangled and broken, he was at a hopeless and frightening loss for something to say. Cesare seemed to take pity though, and with a sympathetic expression, came forward to hold Valentino's face in his hands. If Cesare noticed Valentino's violent start of fear, he didn't comment on it.

'I know that this must be frightening and confusing,' Cesare said gently, responding quickly to the sudden relief in Valentino's eyes. 'But worry not, my friend. With the Daleks' help, it will all soon be over. And victory will be ours.'

'Y-yes,' Valentino managed. 'Of course, my Lord.'

Cesare smiled at him, and released him gently. 'Perhaps you should return to the Assassin hide out, and think on this as you sleep. It will all make sense by tomorrow.'

'Yes, yes of course,' Valentino was more than pleased to excuse himself from Cesare's unstable company. 'Will my Lord call for me soon?'

'Very soon. I promise.'

Valentino sketched a hasty bow and fled. Cesare watched the door slam behind his trembling and pathetic figure and gave a genuine smile that was more a sneer. Behind him, a Dalek rolled forward and turned its eye stalk in his direction.

'AND HE WILL BE THE ONE TO BRING US THE DOC-TOR?' It asked, and even though there was no real emotion to be heard in its voice, Cesare picked up on the doubts it had.

'Don't question my word,' he told it. 'And he will.'

He smiled again.

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><p><strong>Naughty Cesare, what ARE you doing? <strong>

**Anyway, yeah. With everything going on as it is right now, I can't help but realize how much this fanfiction has been there through it all, and how despite everything, I've always come back to it. This thing has literally been my life for two years, and its comforting to know that it will always be there whatever happens. And to YOU, the reader, thank you. Thank you for being there and enjoying this with me. **

**ANYWAY. I plan to update again tonight, maybe with two updates or more. Because here's what I do: I've written about ten, twenty updates in advance, and sometimes I go back and erase some of it, and sometimes I erase it all or sometimes I leave it as it is and can't wait to see what you guys think of it. A bit how I live my life, if that makes sense. **

**And as a note, to myself above all things: **

**Anthony King still lives. It won't make any sense to anyone, except one person. And, most importantly, me. **

**Please review, I need a few kind words of encouragement :) **


	68. Chapter Thirty Nine

**Well, I'm really pleased with how this one turned out! Please enjoy :) **

**SOME QUICK TRANSLATIONS:  
><strong>_Poi mi__sono__metterlo dove__il sole__non splende: Then I'll put this where the sun doesn't shine.  
><em>_Ladro Bello: Handsome thief._**  
><strong>

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><p><em><span>March 26<span>__h__, 1500. Rome._

Bartolomeo had thought it best to bring a shovel. He'd kept it close by for the time in which they had dawdled in going to fetch the Piece of Eden, sitting with it between his knees for the most part as Machiavelli took himself off to some dreary scholar hole and studied the book from the future at great length. He sat alone in the Assassin's hall, huffing impatiently.

'Please stop that,' Pantasilea said from her armchair beside the fire, looking up from the tedious embroidery in her lap that she was secretly glad to be distracted from. 'Before I take that shovel of yours and beat you over the head with it.'

Bartolomeo growled in response, hefting the handle up into his grasp and waving the metal end at her threateningly. _'__Poi mi__sono__metterlo dove__il sole__non splende__.__'  
><em>Pantasilea smiled coyly. 'I should like to see you try.'

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><p>In one of the guest rooms, Amy busied herself. Having had nothing to do, and with Maria having not called on her to resume her duty as a false courtesan, she had found a maid and offered her services. The grateful servant had given Amy a cloth, and asked her if she would mind dusting the guest rooms, since they hadn't been used in a while. Amy's mind wondered while she industrially wiped a bedpost, thinking that maybe, if she got this cleaned, perhaps her and Rory could take up lodgings in this room…<p>

She knew he had been listening. While La Volpe had been teaching Rory as best he could how to sneak and eavesdrop, Amy had been taught to listen out for the creaks in the floorboards and the slight wheeze of breathing. It had been difficult at first, but once Maria had sat her down in a quiet room and instructed her to simply listen, Amy had found herself picking up on sounds she would have never heard otherwise – such as the sound of the breeze or the gentle murmur of voices through the walls. She didn't like to brag, but well. Call her Super Sneak Pond.

She hummed gently, raising the tone as loud as she dared. If Rory was nearby, he'd know. When the door creaked open, and footsteps stole into the room, Amy's world suddenly focused on the shining bed post. The door creaked shut, and she was really beginning to enjoy this when Rory walked straight into the wardrobe.

' _– OW!_'

Amy rolled her eyes, turning as she folded her arms over her chest and glared at her husband, who was hopping on one foot and grumbling in pain.

'That was smooth.' She commented. Rory shot her a sour look.

'Yeah, well, _you _try trying to be a thief. Volpe wants me _climbing_. Amy, he wants to make me _climb…_'

'I thought the whole climbing on the roofs business was an Assassin job.'

'The thieves do it too,' Rory informed her glumly. 'A couple of them hang out on the roof tops, in case the Assassins need them. He wants me to go with the next shift.' He groaned, putting his face in his hands. Amy tutted softly, stepping forward and rubbing Rory's arms.

'There there,' she said, smiling to herself. 'If it helps…you're the best looking thief.' Rory perked up at once, looking interested as Amy strung her arms around his neck and smiled coyly at him.

'Yeah?'

'Mmm-hmm.'

'Well –' Rory replied in turn, his hands going around her waist and stepping closer. 'You're the best looking courtesan in all of Rome.'

All he got in reply was a frosty silence.

'Er, wait. That came out wrong.'

Amy laughed, and kissed him. Rory kissed her back, and with the both of them pleased to be reunited again, they were stepping back towards the bed –

'So you have been to _all _the brothels?'

Amy screamed, and Rory jumped away from her and wheeled around – La Volpe was leaning against the wall by the open door, eyeing them with one slickly raised eyebrow. He watched them both, like a fox watching two terrified rabbits, and when they said nothing at all he raised himself up from the wall and beckoned lazily to Rory.

'Come. You have some buildings to climb, _ladro bello_.' It took a moment for the TARDIS to provide the translation, and Amy's face went bright red. La Volpe smirked at her as he flowed from the room, a mortified looking Rory lagging behind as he shot Amy a desperate look, who shook her head frantically at him, one hand clapped over her mouth. Rory stumbled out after La Volpe, and Amy slammed the door before resuming dusting vigorously, trying to delete that hideous occurrence out of her memory.

* * *

><p>The Doctor had sat quietly all the while.<p>

He'd not left the room that they had all last met, holding the crumpled up note in his hands that had been left by someone not him but him all the same. He held it so tightly that he almost ripped it in his fingertips, leaving dirty smudges on it.

But he was careful not to smear the words.

'Do you ever sleep, my friend?'

The Doctor looked up from the note to see Leonardo in the doorway, absently rubbing the injury on his head, holding a bottle of wine and goblets in the other with his deft fingers. 'I bought you something to drink, and the offer of some company while you mull over our situation.'

'Offer accepted,' the Doctor beamed, patting the seat beside him. Leonardo smiled, sitting down beside the Doctor and pouring the wine. He glanced at the note as the sweet smell of the drink rose up around them, making the air somewhat muggy. Leonardo didn't look away from it, sighing as he set the bottle down on the table. '_Mio Dio_,' he murmured. 'This…this is…'

'Dangerous?' The Doctor offered suddenly, looking wide eyed at Leonardo. Leonardo smiled sadly back at him, and offered a toast.

'To danger.'

The Doctor picked up his goblet. 'To anything but.'

The Doctor and Leonardo drank, the Doctor managing to hastily spit out his mouthful while Leonardo was absorbed in his own. He set his goblet down the same time he did, and mimicked a refreshing _ah _while grimacing to himself. Leonardo wiped his mouth with his thumb, and cleared his throat. 'What do you know?'

The Doctor rubbed his face. 'My handwriting, for one. That's…that's different.'

'Your handwriting changes per…what was it that you called it?'

'Regeneration. And only slightly. I can't place it.' The Doctor squinted uselessly at the note. 'Tenth. No, ninth. No, fifth. First? Oh, I don't _know._' He growled, oblivious to the fact that Leonardo was watching him carefully. 'This is why they tell you, _never become a paradox. _It's complicated, its _dull_ and it's _much _more trouble than its worth.'

They lapsed into silence. 'Anything else?' Leonardo asked hopefully.

The Doctor grimaced. 'Nothing.' He stated, and, as if he was annoyed at himself, threw the note away from him and onto the table, flinging himself back into his chair and entering a spectacular looking sulk. Leonardo frowned at him, clapping him on the shoulder.

'Do not loose heart, friend! We will solve this yet!'

'We're running out of time!' The Doctor suddenly barked. 'I'm a _Time Lord _and I can't find enough _time! _What's the point of it? What's the point of _me_ when all I do is chase myself in circles?!' He demanded from himself.

Leonardo shut his mouth awkwardly as the Doctor shrunk into himself, spent. He was stuttering uselessly when the door opened: Ezio peered in and a few tried looking recruits made attempts to look past him and at the Doctor.

'Doctor – our contracts are fulfilled and our time yours. We should leave for the future at dawn.'

The Doctor looked up at him, his expression unreadable. 'I'll get the gang together then.' He said, his voice void of any real enthusiasm as he got out of his seat and stepping through the door, past Ezio and the recruits that scrambled to get out of his way. Ezio shooed them away, and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He and Leonardo remained silent as Ezio picked up the Doctor's abandoned goblet and swirled the wine inside.

'He is as lost as we,' Leonardo murmured to the question he was sure Ezio wasn't asking. Ezio stopped in rising the goblet to his lips, and eyed Leonardo over the rim of it.

'We are all lost.' He replied in kind. 'But, there is the hope that we have answers soon – as well as an advance on our fight with the Borgia.'

Leonardo smiled without much humour. 'We are old men, Ezio. What does _soon _mean to men like us?'

Ezio paused in sipping again. 'It means hope.' As Leonardo sighed and ran a hand through his hair, Ezio finally took a sip of the wine, only to draw back and frown at it when he detected a strange taste to it.

'Ah, hope.' Leonardo said sadly. 'Even the poorest of men have it. What is it to us?'

Ezio set the goblet down. 'For all the while we have hope and faith, my friend, we are richer than any man.' He walked towards the door, squeezing Leonardo's shoulder as he passed. '_Buona notte, il mio amico. _Go to bed soon, and rest your head.'

'Mmm,' Leonardo made an uncommitted noise. 'I will when I have thought all there is to be thought.'

'You will be here forever.' Ezio told him as he opened the door.

'If forever is what it takes.' Leonardo said gently as the door closed. By himself, he smiled quietly before drawing his glass into his chest, resting his head on his fist and lapsing into the circles of his own mind.

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><p><strong>WELL. Please feel free to review, I'm doing the updates as I read through them and correct myself here and there. Onwards! :) <strong>


	69. Chapter Forty

**Short and sweet update, and I think that's me done for the night. More soon, I promise! Rereading what I've written, I think there's some stuff I need to read over and redo and rethink. There's also I lot I need to face within myself as I start writing seriously for a portfolio I'm preparing for my university interviews during next year, and while I'll be including some of this to show how my writing has developed as I have as a person (By next September, this thing will've been going nearly THREE years!) But yeah! I plan to get this finished by New Years! Gosh. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><em><span>6<span>__th__ May, 2012. Scotland._

Vidic sat alone in the company of McDonald's voice. He had it on loop, and he knew it word by word – leaning back in his chair and sipping from a glass of brandy, he waved his hand along with the tempo of McDonald's reverent muttering as he made the decision to return to the woman's flat, the harsh, bold brass of his curse as his phone began to ring, and then the symphony was finished with the gentle murmur of love's small talk, and a promise to stay the night. Vidic hummed along gently with the tune he had composed in his head, and raised his glass to the sound of the door shutting and the rustle of fabric as McDonald removed his coat. In the few seconds' lull that followed as the computer readied to play the audio track again, he rattled the ice around his glass and sighed happily.

Darren McDonald had gone and got himself _involved. _He'd bought his feelings into play, and now they were taking all his turns. The thought made Vidic nearly squirm with glee – oh! How foolish he'd been. How very foolish. He thought human emotions were such pitiable things: if a man fell into their grasp then, well, he was subject to the whim of every foe.  
>And now Vidic had a woman.<p>

Now, he had leverage.

The track began again, and Vidic sighed again as he let his head tip back, immersed in the sound of McDonald's denial. The sound of easy manipulation had a wonderful ring to it.

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><p><strong>Goodnightgood day everyone! Have a good one, wherever you are :) **


	70. Chapter Forty One

**WELL. I think I could have done a lot better with this chapter, but it is as it is. Anyway, another update later tonight.  
>Because tonight we say goodbye to the Ponds.<br>:/**

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><p><em><span>8<span>__th__ May, 2012. Kalaupapa, Hawaii._

The groundskeeper who watched the graveyard had been raised a superstitious man. And if there was anything he treasured in the little things he had, it was his faith.

He believed that Satan's workers came out in storms.

In the shelter of the porch of his little hut on the edge of the graveyard, he kept a close watch on the land he looked after, gun on his lap. He'd seen never a devil before, no sir, but tonight was as good a night as any for them. Absently, he watched the palm trees sway in the raging wind, and the rain lash out the ground. Yep. The best kind of night for devils.

He was just about to turn to make the tea that had just boiled when he heard one. At once he dropped his mug, where it smashed on the wooden floor of the porch, and readied his shotgun. It clicked assuredly, and he pointed it out into the darkness with one hand, his other going to his neck and tightly holding the cross he had around his neck. The devil was getting louder, and it began to test his faith inside his mind. He'd remain a man of the Lord though, all the way until this devil dragged him to hell.

And then suddenly, the noise stopped. Everything was silent except for the storm, but still the groundskeeper kept his gun trained into the dark.

And then the devil began to speak to him.

'Hello…? Anyone there?'

They came. A whole band of them, emerging from the darkness. The chief led the way, dressed like a Christian in tweed and a bowtie but not a Christian, no sir. A woman with red her and skin the whitest he'd ever seen was on his left, and a man who looked lost on his right. Behind him came five men, one with a red hat, one dressed in red and white, one in orange, one in red and blue and another in blue and green. The red and white one carried a lantern, and the one in red and blue carried a shovel on his shoulder.

'Excuse me, hello?' the one in the tweed asked, stepping into the light of the hut and spotting the groundskeeper. 'Ah! Hello! Could you tell us where Father Damien is buried?'

The groundskeeper stared, and his hand tightened on his cross. 'And what will you be wanting with that information?'

The man in the tweed awkwardly fiddled with his hands. 'We're, uh – we're mourners. We've come to mourn Father Damien.'

The groundskeeper frowned. 'That man's been dead for a hundred years.'

'We're very old friends.'

The groundskeeper didn't believe him. 'Now you just take yourselves out of here before I blow you to sky high.' He said, waving his gun. The man in tweed stepped back, raising his hands, but the man dressed in red and white robes drew a sword from his side and stepped forward in front of him.

'We came in peace, but if you mean to threaten us then you will regret it.' He promised over the howl of the storm.

And then his eyes turned gold. He looked at the groundskeeper with them golden eyes, and he knew he wasn't looking at a devil. He was looking at something much worse. One of them vengeful angels his mother always told him about. He recoiled at once, and lowered his gun in a sharp snap.

'He's in his grave.'

The devil in tweed gave him a funny sort of look. 'Yes, well. We gathered that. Where _is _the grave though?'

'S'where he first slept when he came to this land. Underneath that big old tree in the center of the graveyard. Can't miss it. Now do your mourning and _get_.'

The angel said thank you in a tongue he didn't recognize but knew anyway, and the groundskeeper flinched in the wake of the paradox. The man in tweed nodded a little awkwardly, and the whole group shuffled away from the gate keeper's house. He stood on the porch and watched the howling dark swallow them all, one by one, before he gathered up his equipment with a huge clatter and ran inside. He slammed the door, threw across the bolts, and turned out the light with bible in hand. Although no one could hear it outside, the gate keeper began to pray.

_Oh lord save me, _

_There's devils I can't see._

* * *

><p>'You must admire the man, Doctor!' Leonardo called over the storm as they all struggled towards the tree in the center of the graveyard that was unmistakably the one the gate keeper had referred to. 'His faith was tested, and he did not yield until he had no choice!'<p>

'I would have rather he just _told _us where to go!' Amy yelled back, quite fed up of being soaked through. Rory had his arms around her, and was trying to shelter her from most of the downpour, but it really wasn't much use.

'I second that!' La Vope called back.

'What?!'

'I said I second that!'

'_What?!_'

'I said – oh, forget it!' La Volpe swore loudly over the wind.

'Blasted storm!' Bartolomeo growled beside him. 'It is barely the state to do such deeds!'

'It will soon be over, friend!' La Volpe encouraged him. Bartoloemo's scoff was lost to the storm.

'I hope so, or else I shall dig myself a grave!'

Beyond them, Machiavelli huffed as he adjusted the weight of the shovel on his shoulder. 'You are positive, Doctor, that there is a Piece of Eden here?'

'Yes! Of course! A hundred percent! Well, maybe ninety. Eighty more like, but it'll be there! I wouldn't hint at it otherwise! Unless I was playing games, but I don't think I would!'

'Machiavelli seeks reassurance, Doctor! As we all do!' Ezio called back, leading the way with the lantern held out in front of him.

'Er, chin up everybody! It'll be there!'

It was a few moments of terse silence before they got to the tree – sure enough, a headstone was underneath it, with Father Damien's name etched onto the stone. The Doctor looked expectantly at everyone as they gathered around it, swaying with the unrelenting wind and rain. 'Well?' He shouted. Machiavelli glanced at the shovel in his hand, and abruptly passed it to La Volpe, who shot him a look of contempt and passed it to Rory. Rory looked towards Amy, who shot him such a nasty look that he shoved it at Leonardo, who stepped back and motioned at Ezio. Ezio took it in hand, judged the weight, and wordlessly passed it to Bartolomeo. He stood with no one to press it onto, and growled.

'_È puzzolente mucchi di merda di cavallo._' He said platonically as he placed the shovel's point into the wet earth and stepped on it as he began to dig. His efforts were impressive – within half an hour of digging, the top of the shovel struck wood. He stopped at the sound, and looked up out of the grave and at the group, who clustered around it.

'I won't do it,' he said finally.

'Wait…' Ezio said, stepping forward. There was something very compelled about his look: he had an idea, a purpose. He raised his hand, and made a slight beckoning motion with his fingers. His eyes took on their abnormal focus, and under the Bartolomeo's feet, the earth began to shudder. He swore loudly and scrambled out of the grave, helped by La Volpe and Machiavelli with an arm each, and he turned to see the earth part and a glow emit from the gap. As if lifted by some force, there was a gentle _crack, _and a glowing sphere floated gently out of the grave and stopped to hover just above it, bobbing in the air like a buoy in a gentle current. Ezio, his eyes still golden, reached out and took the Piece of Eden. Its glow died at once, and the slight hum it was emitting was silenced as soon as it touched his palm. Ezio's eyes cleared, and he stepped back with a slight sway, as if the action had been tiring. He blinked thoroughly, and gazed at the object in his hands.

'We have it.' He said quietly.

Everyone's agreement was silent. The only sound was the roar of the storm.

'What now?' Asked Leonardo quietly. Beside him, the Doctor frowned.

'I'm not sure.'

They stayed there for a while, shivering, until the groundskeeper finally turned out the light in his hut.

As if the dark could save him.

As if the dark could save any of them.

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><p><strong>WELL. That chapter's that. Are we ready for Doctor Who tonight? <strong>

**CUZ I KNOW I'M NOT. **

**:( **


	71. Chapter Forty Two

**HELLO EVERYONE HOW HAVE WE BEEN? :D Anyway, here are some updates for you all. Enjoy! :D **

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><p><em><span>11th May, 2012. Kalaupapa, Hawaii.<span>_

'I ain't coming out there!'

'Sir, your cooperation will be appreciated.'

'Stick your cooperation!'

The agent from Texas in the sunglasses nodded to his companions, and stepped back from the door of the gate keeper's hut – throwing both of their weight at it together, they knocked the door in, and charged inside. There was a brief yell, and a shotgun bullet went through the roof with an almighty crash – the agent still outside tilted his head to watch it with an expressionless face. He lowered it when the old gate keeper was dragged outside, hanging limply between the two other agents. They held an arm each, and his lip was bleeding heavily. They weren't dealing with much, if all it took to subdue him was a punch.

'Thank you for coming outside, sir.' The agent said, stepping forward with his hands neatly folded in front of him. 'It's come to our attention that you were visited by some very strange people on the night of the eighth of May. All we want is for you to confirm some details.'

'I don't know nothing.' The gate keeper growled. The agent smiled a little blandly.

'We'll see.' He said, and then cleared his throat. 'Who were they led by?'

The gatekeeper didn't answer, but glared at the agent intently. The agent nodded at one of the agents who held the gatekeeper's arms, and wordlessly, he twisted the arm he held until it snapped. The gate keeper screamed in agony, thrashing as the agent continued to put pressure on his broken arm.

'I'll ask you again,' said the first agent. 'Who were they led by?'

'Some man! A man like no other man!' The gate keeper yelled, tears streaming down his face. 'He wore a bowtie!'

The agent raised an eyebrow. 'Hm. Do you remember any other details about the rest of your visitors?'

The agent twisted the broken arm again, and the gate keeper was quick to answer. 'An angel,' he gasped through his agony. 'An angel in red and white,' he moaned, falling limp. The agent nodded once.

'Thank you for your cooperation, sir.' He said, and he nodded at the other two agents again – they both stepped smartly away from the gatekeeper after hauling him up onto his feet, and for the few seconds he stood unsupported, swaying in the door way, the first agent pulled a small pistol from the inside pocket of his jacket and shot him in the head. The gate keeper fell back into his hut, dead. As the blood began to drip through the porch, one of the agents handed the first a canister of gasoline, which he promptly opened and spread in the doorway and over the front of the hut. The other agent took a box of matches from his pocket, and lit one before handing it to the Texan agent, who then threw it onto the hut. The place was alight at once with a _whumph_, the flames reaching the sky and emitting thick, black smoke.

The agents turned and walked away – back to the black limo they had parked beyond the graveyard. The two bigger agents took the front seats, while the Texan agent took the back and settled into a world of plush seats and air conditioning. Ah.

'Hey,' The Texan agent said to his bodyguards. 'Anybody got a towel up there?'

It was promptly handed to him through the screen separating the back and front of the limousine. The agent wiped the sweat from his face, and dumped the towel on the seat next to him. He wouldn't forget his own next time. Pouring himself a drink as the car rolled forward, he touched the device he wore on his ear.

'_Agent?' _It said.

'I can confirm it sir. The Doctor was here.'

The agent could _feel _Vidic's grin.

'_Very good.'_

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><p><strong>If you noted the chapter number and the reference, well done you :P <strong>

**ANYWAY, short update for you, but another one to come shortly. REVIEW! :D **


	72. Chapter Forty Three

**Can't wait to see what you guys think of this. :D**

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><p><em><span>March 25<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

The Piece of Eden sat on the table, and everybody looked at it as if it were a sleeping predator. In a mixture of those who were standing and sitting, everyone eyed it warily, but it sat docile and void of life. None of them would swear it, nor would they tell anyone, but everyone secretly felt that it was _waiting_.

But for what?

Ezio was the first to give into temptation: with a preoccupied sigh, and under the gaze of everyone, he reached for it. His hand hovered over it before, with a slight snarl, he snatched it up and held it tightly. But when it did nothing, the breath that everyone had sucked in was released heavily, and Ezio put the Piece of Eden back down on the table and eyed everyone in turn.

'It is not meant for me.' He stated.

'How can it _not?_' Machiavelli argued at once. 'Ezio, your very _existence _concerns Pieces of Eden!'

'And what if my purpose is not its?'

It was a point that Machiavelli couldn't argue: he shut his mouth, and thumped the table with his fist. The Piece of Eden rocked, and everyone's eyes snapped to it, and when it did nothing the collective relief could be felt from a mile away.

'No. Today my purpose is not its.' Ezio stated again, this time to everybody else.

'I agree,' Leonardo put in. Without any fear showing, he picked it up, turning it gently in his fingers. It didn't even flicker at his touch: surely it must have felt the wisdom and the knowledge buzzing in his fingertips? 'It seeks the touch of someone else.' He looked up – directly at the Doctor. 'And who else has it not seen already?'

'I thought it might be meant for me.'

Everything was silent at that. With an intent look, Leonardo solemnly held out the Piece of Eden to the Doctor. He eyed it a moment, unsure of what he would see and what this meant, but slowly, he reached out –

And took it.

In an instant, the room exploded into light – great, bold striking lines of light that zipped and bounced from wall to wall as reams of golden data exploded into existence. Everybody cried out as one: except for Leonardo, Ezio and the Doctor, who rose from their seats to exist entirely at the will of the Piece of Eden. Information flew past them all, entire eons of it, faster than anybody could comprehend: but there was something different. Because at the centre, where the Doctor stood, _words _and _images _flashed into existence, looking like the lights you see after looking at something too bright: after effects of the past. Ezio and Leonardo struggled to read those words in the dizzying swirl of fact and truth that surrounded them, but the Doctor could: and his face hardened. He became angry, and as if he were walking through a breeze, he stormed through the film of golden data in front of him and abruptly shoved the Piece of Eden into Leonardo's grip as he passed him: at once, the spectacle was cut off, leaving everyone blinking and muttering as the Doctor took himself from the room – looking at no one, saying nothing. He was a man possessed, and nobody dared stop him – not even as the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS taking off ripped through the hideout as she took her incensed Time Lord elsewhere.

'What – ' Machiavelli managed. 'What did he _see?_'

'It said something to him…' Ezio replied, blinking. He could see those words, floating in front of his eyes, but they were fading quickly: suddenly keen to know what the Doctor had been told, he focused his eyes into their heightened senses, and at once the words were clear to him again: floating in the air and a harsh, neon blue.

'What does it say?' Leonardo asked.

'I…I don't understand…' Ezio seemed genuinely baffled. It hadn't been what he was expecting: but what had he been expecting? Something…something more profound. And completely not _that_.

He looked up them all, hardly believing the words as he spoke them.

"_Hello Sweetie?" _

And then Amy and Rory looked very, very quickly at each other.

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><p><strong>DON'T JUDGE ME<strong>

**DON'T JUDGE ME **

**DON'T **

**I'm with the majority of you when you say EW HER WHAT'S SHE DOING HERE. AGAIN but but BUUUT for the purposes of this fic she worked really, REALLY well and I'm using her as a plot device, more than anything. So despite her being around for a few phases, I really hope you guys keep reading and I hope I do her justice, despite my personal dislike for her. **

**Review? :D **


	73. Chapter Forty Four Phase One

**HELLOOOO EVERYONE! I'm currently on holiday with very little internet connection, so I'll try and upload this chapter as much as I can over the next couple of days. Anyway, like I said in the last chapter: despite my personal dislike of River Song, I really hope I've done her character justice. A lot of stuff to come that'll explain a lot, but anyway. Enjoy! :D **

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><p><em><span>27<span>__th__ October, 1208. Masayf, Syria._

The sun was out, bright and baking hot. It sucked all the moisture out of the ground, leaving it hard and cracked. Children ran over it, screaming and laughing as they got under their mother's feet and chased chickens, cats and dogs. The merchants and traders struggled to make themselves heard over the noise of the crowd and their rivals, beckoning potential buyers over frantically – they were mostly women, seeking food or things for their modest homes, but a few were men – a few boys who fancied themselves men now that their faces had hair; they called at the women wrapped up in silks and cloth, and a few burly looking soldiers who stood around the market – not preventing or hindering anything or anyone but causing a meaningful presence. Yes, the residents of Masayf were safe, but not if you displeased their guards. They watched everyone carefully from under their low hoods, hands on their swords and their eyes constantly roving.

And thus was a normal day in Masayf.

And in the buzz of the trading crowd, a novice waited. If history was running accordingly, the day she had been waiting for. From the stall she leant against – the owner hadn't had the nerve to tell her to go elsewhere – she scanned the crowd briefly until she found what she was looking for: a pair of obscenely dark and intelligent eyes, looking at her intently from a stall that boasted rugs of all colours. She shook her head ever so slightly, and the eyes hardened before moving from hers. He was cynical about this, she knew, but all she had was her word.

In this case, anyway.

She felt frustration swell in her head, threatening with an ugly bite: she sighed heavily, and tapped her fingers against her arm. She was an impatient person, and she thought that anyone who said that patience was a virtue spoke a whole load of nonsense. Impatience made you go and get things, instead of waiting for them to come to you – but in this case, it's what she had to do. It was surprising that she wasn't used to it by now: like everyone else who knew him, they spent their whole lives waiting.

And then, suddenly, the waiting was paying off – she heard it: far across the market, probably tucked away in some dark corner. The universe, clear and determined, pealing like a bell. At once, she was gone from the stall, and into the mass of people – using the skills been taught, she weaved her way effortlessly through them all, keeping her gaze dead ahead and stopping for no one. She could feel his eyes on her, all the way, but she didn't pay him attention – she could _swear _she could feel it calling to her. Oh, it had been so long…too long…

She was free from the crowd and going towards that dark little corner, nestled in between a few little houses. She walked into the mouth of the alley between them, and saw it appear – the blue box, fitting snugly in the limited space. Barely able to restrain her mounting excitement, she stepped down the alley, flicking back her hood as the blue box became solid. Its door opened, and he stepped out.

So angry. So very angry. Something in her jolted in surprise when she saw that intent, dark look – why was he that angry? The message hadn't gotten to him when he'd needed it, hadn't it? He wouldn't be here otherwise -

Unless.

Unless those memories had been denied to him.

She resisted the urge to grin at him again, and instead decided to give him a slow, deliberate and knowing smile, one that would only incense his need to know more and make this all the more _wonderful_: and it worked. His look darkened, and he made his way towards her purposefully. She stood her ground, looking up at him and beaming gently. His look didn't lighten.

Oh, it made her _shiver._

'This is getting far more complicated day by day: far more complicated than it should be – far more capable than _I _want it to be. Tell me everything you know, and leave nothing out. I am _owed _this.'

'All in good time.' She replied shortly and sweetly, and his expression twisted into something desperate and angry.

'_River Song_,' he said her name – harsh, like a warning, but in her ears it was as wonderful as a bell.

She smiled.

'Hello sweetie.'

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><p><strong>I'll try to get the next phase up tomorrow, depending what's happening on this LOVELY holiday. Anyway, please review! :) <strong>


	74. Chapter Forty Four Phase Two

**JESUS EVERYONE HELLO. God, how long has it been? Anyway, there is a HUGE HUGE HUGE amount of stuff going on in my life right now, some of it bad, and its nothing I can't fight through. And my first stop is here - updates! I'll try and make two tonight, maybe more, and I have some outstanding beta'ing to catch up on by tomorrow as well. Anyway, please enjoy! :)**

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><p>Valentino was silent at first, because he couldn't trust himself to speak. He shook all over, his heart lodged itself in the roof of his mouth, and oh <em>Dio <em>did he want to run. If almost instinctively, he reached up to the cross he wore as a token of Cesare's and a token of his faith and clutched it so tight that it hurt his hand. His wide eyed stare was so fixed on the Daleks that he failed to notice the way Cesare's eyes fixed on the action: his eyebrows went up a little, and the corner of his mouth jerked upwards, pleased with Valentino's reaction.

'My…my lord…' Valentino managed, swallowing heavily. Those horrible lights seemed to focus on him again, twitching slightly in their stalks. Their whirr made him start. 'I…I don't understand…'

'I have been blessed, my friend!' Cesare announced, lowering his hands and leaving his arms on the rests of his chair. 'The assassins may have their Doctor, but all the while I have the Daleks, I have the _cure!_' He smiled, fanatic and incensed. 'Daleks!' At once, the stalks swivelled so that they were looking at Cesare, pointing downwards. He smiled up slowly into the one on the right, reaching up and running a finger down the stalk. 'Tell Valentino of how you came to me. Of how you and your kind _pledged _themselves to me.'

The Daleks did nothing, but the lights refocused, seemingly in thought. The whirr made Valentino start again, and when they raised their stalks to look at him, he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

'WE OB-EY.' Said the Dalek on the left. The voice was a mix of the all the sounds you don't want to hear at night – a grating, mechanical sound. Valentino was terrified of it, and he murmured a little as the two Daleks rolled forwards. They stopped with a little lurch, and now in the light, Valentino saw them in full – strangely shaped and covered with bumps on their lower parts, he couldn't comprehend how they worked. How they moved. How they breathed.

Or if they even did.

'WE SENSED A GREAT POW-ER AC-ROSS THE UN-I-VERSE.' Said the one on the left.

'WE CAME SEEK-ING ANS-WERS.'

'AND FOUND THAT THE GREAT POW-ER BELONGED TO A MAN EVEN GREAT-ER.'

At this, Cesare lifted his head, and smiled indulgently. He believed them, and every word they said. But Valentino found something nagging at him through the blind fog of terror in his mind – something wasn't _right_. Creatures like this surely bowed to no man? But Cesare reassured him with his dark eyes, and Valentino tried to tell himself he was reassured.

'WE HAVE PLEDGED OUR-SELVES TO CES-ARE BOR-GIA.'

'HE LENDS HIS POW-ER TO HELP US RE-BUILD OUR RACE AF-TER IT WAS DE-STROYED BY THE DOC-TOR.'

Valentino caught the little tremor in the Dalek's voice as it said the Doctor's name – was it afraid? Was this creature of power afraid of one man? Before he could question it, Cesare lifted himself from his chair in a graceful move, and came down the small stairs that led up to it.

'Do you see, Valentino?' He asked his spy as he came to stand between the Daleks. 'The Assassins' Doctor is evil. He is a _destroyer_ of worlds and races. He is a man not to be trusted, if he is a man at all.' Cesare motioned at the two Daleks. 'And what is a man, if he is not one? How can he be beaten? How can I crush him, like others who have opposed me?' His voice lowered, and he caressed the head of the Dalek next to him, almost fondly. 'The Daleks tell me that they have tried to kill him. They fought a great war, hidden away somewhere in the skies in an effort to eradicate him, but still he lives. To run away another day…' Cesare lifted his eyes to Valentino's. 'But they say that with my Apple, that they can do it. That they can finally _kill _the Time Lord who has held domain over this universe as if he has the right. And they can eliminate the Assassin threat once and for all.'

'THE UNI-VERSE WILL BE FREED FROM THE DOC-TOR.'

'AND CES-ARE BOR-GIA WILL BE FREE TO RULE ALL.'

'The Daleks have promised me planets and civilisations to rule at my command. But we shall see.' He said dismissively, but Valentino could see the spark in his eyes – the greed that accompanied the whole concept of planets and civilisations being his to rule. And it terrified Valentino. With his whole concept of everything that had ever been mangled and broken, he was at a hopeless and frightening loss for something to say. Cesare seemed to take pity though, and with a sympathetic expression, came forward to hold Valentino's face in his hands. If Cesare noticed Valentino's violent start of fear, he didn't comment on it.

'I know that this must be frightening and confusing,' Cesare said gently, responding quickly to the sudden relief in Valentino's eyes. 'But worry not, my friend. With the Daleks' help, it will all soon be over. And victory will be ours.'

'Y-yes,' Valentino managed. 'Of course, my Lord.'

Cesare smiled at him, and released him gently. 'Perhaps you should return to the Assassin hide out, and think on this as you sleep. It will all make sense by tomorrow.'

'Yes, yes of course,' Valentino was more than pleased to excuse himself from Cesare's unstable company. 'Will my Lord call for me soon?'

'Very soon. I promise.'

Valentino sketched a hasty bow and fled. Cesare watched the door slam behind his trembling and pathetic figure and gave a genuine smile that was more a sneer. Behind him, a Dalek rolled forward and turned its eye stalk in his direction.

'AND HE WILL BE THE ONE TO BRING US THE DOC-TOR?' It asked, and even though there was no real emotion to be heard in its voice, Cesare picked up on the doubts it had.

'Don't question my word,' he told it. 'And he will.'

He smiled again.

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><p><strong>Naughty Cesare, what ARE you doing?<strong>

**Anyway, yeah. With everything going on as it is right now, I can't help but realize how much this fanfiction has been there through it all, and how despite everything, I've always come back to it. This thing has literally been my life for two years, and its comforting to know that it will always be there whatever happens. And to YOU, the reader, thank you. Thank you for being there and enjoying this with me.**

**ANYWAY. I plan to update again tonight, maybe with two updates or more. Because here's what I do: I've written about ten, twenty updates in advance, and sometimes I go back and erase some of it, and sometimes I erase it all or sometimes I leave it as it is and can't wait to see what you guys think of it. A bit how I live my life, if that makes sense.**

****Please review, I need a few kind words of encouragement :)****


	75. Chapter Forty Four Phase Three

**ALRIGHT, a few things before I get started with this huge phase! Firstly, I went back and read over the last couple of phases: this chapter is not actually set in 1222, but in 1208. That's all corrected now! And secondly and most importantly, a HUGE, HUGE thanks to Midori Aoi, who made me an INCREDIBLE poster for this fic! You can see it on her deviantART, a link to which is on her profile. Thank you SO much, seeing it made my day and I'm so impressed with your skill!  
>As always, on with the show! :D <strong>

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><p>'What do you mean, <em>expected?<em>'

Malik was a formidable man, but the Doctor wasn't going to let the fact stop him from asking questions. Of course, complete control over everything _ever _would be preferable, but all the while he wasn't in control he was going to annoy the person who was.

'River Song prophesied your coming after appearing in our market square in a flash of light, strolling up to our gate and demanding to be let in,' Malik replied as they walked up to the citadel on top of a very steep hill. Even though they were away from the busyness from the market, they didn't stop coming across people – children ran in front of them, shrieking as they chased each other or dogs, and people called to friends or perspective buyers that loitered intently near the blankets where wares were displayed. The little boy who Malik still held by the hand didn't seem to have any inclination of joining the other boys wrestling in the dirt nearby, but instead had his head permanently swivelled on his shoulder as he stared at the Doctor with that talent – or "eagle vision", as River Song had called it. It was beginning to annoy the Doctor like an itch that wouldn't just go away, and he was going to snap at the boy to stop or wave his arms in a threatening manner when River whispered in his ear:

'I used a handsome time agent's technology that a guard smuggled into my cell for me,' she murmured. 'It was a bit defective and blew up when I arrived here – but they all thought I was a god.'

The Doctor was puzzled for a moment, until he realized what Malik had just said about River appearing in a flash of light in the middle of the market place. He turned to glare at her.

'That was _very _irresponsible.'

River Song laughed, low and melody-like. 'Don't go telling _me _about _responsible_, Doctor.'

'She possessed knowledge that, prior to her arrival, was only circulated amongst our innermost brothers, and so it was for the safety of the Brotherhood that we took her in.' Malik continued as if he'd never been interrupted.

'They tried to keep me as a prisoner first,' River Song continued, grinning as if the whole notion were absurd.

'Indeed,' Malik concurred with a grim expression. 'So we initiated her into our lowest ranks, for the sake of protocol and despite her gender. But of course, that didn't stop her from smuggling her way into our innermost circles. As I am sure you know, Doctor, River Song is a very persuasive woman.'

'Yes. Well.' The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly as they climbed up the steep hill, and stopped at the base of a huge citadel. Malik stopped, and released the boy's hand to gesture at the imposing towers.

'Masayf's Citadel,' he said. 'Our home.' He looked down to the boy and touched him on the back of his head. 'Run ahead and tell your father that we're on our way.'

'But – '

'Quickly now, Sef.'

The boy pouted a moment, and then quickly risked another look at the Doctor with his heightened vision, only to have his head meet with a gentle clout from Malik.

'And enough of that.' Malik told him as the boy took off at once, up another steep hill and through a patrol of guards. When the boy was out of his sight, Malik turned and gave the Doctor another of his piercing looks. 'Your presence here will not be questioned all the while you are with me or River Song, but step out of line for one second and our brothers will not hesitate in killing you.' He warned him coldly.

The Doctor arched an eyebrow. A warning like that? Malik wouldn't make that if he wasn't sure of what the Doctor was capable of. A smile, lazy and confident spread over his face when he replied:

'Are you so sure that'll stop me?'

A stony silence fell between the two men, the hatred and uncertainty rising from Malik like steam. The Doctor didn't break eye contact, but returned Malik's look with the same lazy expression, until Malik finally looked away, shot River Song a look that was as chastising as much as it was a warning, and then turned and led them both up the same steep hill Sef had taken. The Doctor went to step after him, but River grabbed his arm from behind and yanked him back, forcing him to turn and to step close.

'_Don't_,' she hissed. 'Play games with him.'

'I thought this was a game,' the Doctor said with a mockery of innocence but with obvious contempt. 'Seeing that you were making it one.'

River's face twisted in anger. 'I am telling you all I can. Nothing else. If I tell you anything at the wrong time we could lose _everything_.'

'Loosing?' The Doctor asked, putting his face closer to hers. Unwillingly, she tipped her head back, and saw the Doctor smirk slowly. 'That sounds like what people do when they play games with _me._'

River Song didn't answer, but glared at the Doctor as his smirk grew wider, revelling in his assured victory as he stepped away from her and followed Malik up the steep hill. River watched him go, seething, before following him up the hill.

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><p>In the end, they caught up with Malik sooner than they thought, because he stood in the entrance to the inner citadel, his body stiff with anger. In front of him, a man leaning insolently against the wall craned to see the doctor and River enter his line of sight.<p>

'Ah!' He said. 'I understand,' his eyes dropped back to Malik's. 'You had an _errand_. I should have thought as much: I saw that boy run through a little while ago. I tried to trip him up, but he was too quick. Like a _snake_.'

'Step aside, Abbas.' Malik told him shortly. His authority was clear, but instead the man called Abbas lifted himself from the wall and walked into Malik's path, gesturing lazily.

'And who are these infidels you are bringing into our home on the order of our _leader?_' He spat the word out as he thought lower of it than the word _dirt_. 'A vagabond and a who –'

Abbas didn't get the last word out, because Malik lurched forward with surprising strength and seized him by the front of his robes, yanking him forward and thrusting his face into his. Abbas yelped, but Malik didn't shout or raise his voice for an instant.

'Get out of my way.'

He dropped Abbas back on his feet, who scrambled out of the way and into the nonchalant pose he'd been in before. 'Fine. Go ahead. But don't think our leader won't hear about this!'

'And I am sure that he'll congratulate me on it.' Malik replied as he stepped past him, leaving River and the Doctor to deal with Abbas' twisted rage that he directed at them as they went by. They didn't break his gaze, but returned it with such a force of a wealth of experience, misery and life that Abbas snarled at them both and fixed his gaze the ground. When they'd passed him, and were back out into the sun, the Doctor asked: 'Who was he?'

'Abbas,' River replied shortly. 'A man with a grudge that's lasted him a lifetime.'

'His bark is worse than his bite,' Malik called over his shoulder as they passed a training ring where a few novice looking individuals spared ungracefully, kicking up dirt and shouting at each other as they brawled with blunt swords. An audience had gathered around it, and it was from this a man broke free to run up to Malik – panting through the cloth he wore wrapped around his face, he sketched a hasty bow.

'Master Malik! My students do not seem to know what it is to wield a blade. Perhaps, you could teach them what you – '

'Another time, friend.' Malik said shortly, walking past him. The man watched him go, crestfallen. The Doctor watched him as they walked away.

'Yes! Another time, then!' The man called out, and then wheeled around as one of the novices in the training ring uttered a scream. '_THAT IS NOT HOW YOU WIELD A BLADE – _' He roared, running back to the crowd that had gathered tighter together at the sight of blood, where he tried to force himself through with little success. The Doctor turned back, and gave River Song an incredulous look.

'They're surely not – '

'Our future Assassins?' Malik cut in. 'Unfortunately, yes. But not everyone is skilled when they join us, and it is a long road to becoming a master of our trade. But the rewards are well worth the journey.' He added as they reached the gates to the inner citadel, guarded by a few guards. They bowed respectfully at Malik, nodded at River Song when she bowed respectfully, and stepped aside to let them pass. At once, they passed into the cool shade of the inside, the only heat coming from the light that seeped in the fine, iron-wrought windows. The Doctor found himself in a small hall of sorts, lined with book cases that stood in the shadows cast by supportive arches. Assassins dressed differently to their peers floated among these book shelves and in and out of sight, holding books or talking in low whispers. The Doctors shamelessly inquisitive gaze found a wide set of stone stairs that led up to a balcony like floor, and a shadow, long and wide set that fell on the steps.

He looked up.

The Piece of Eden had told him things in images and words the Doctor simply could not describe. But now he saw what he saw, its message was clear.

_1208. _

_A man awaits you with a message._

_From someone not of this world._

The Doctor met the eyes of the man awaiting him on top of the stairs. He was dressed in black robes, like Malik's, but the intricately woven designs in white thread proclaimed his absolute authority in some strange manner lost on the Doctor. His hood was lowered, and it revealed a face hardened by time and experience – the man's beard was grey in places, and the eyes he had were stern and black. But, there was something different about them – once upon a time, you could lose yourself to the authority and the confidence those eyes once had, but now they only regarded you with a wary welcome – they shone, somewhat. With one hand he held Sef's, the child looking comfortable and assured in this man's presence. The father and son bond was obvious. And in the other hand, he held what was undoubtedly a Piece of Eden – in the possession of a man who was peaceful, it itself was at peace: it throbbed slightly in his grip, and the throbbing seemed to increase a little as the Doctor approached.

At the bottom of the stairs, River Song bowed – lower than she had to the guards outside. Her respectful murmur of _Mentor _was almost lost to the Doctor: he was preoccupied with the fact that, beside him, Malik had not bowed but had inclined his head only once, regarding the powerful man with a knowing smile. The man returned it to him, and the two shared a private joke between them that was unknown to everyone else.

And then the man looked at the Doctor again, with a look that wasn't expectant, but appraising. Considerate, even. There was a moment in silence where the Doctor made it clear that he wasn't about to bow to anybody, and the man inclined his head, looking as if he understood what the Doctor was, and what he meant. The Doctor would have liked to hear it, and see how far it came to the truth.

But something nagged him in the back of his head that it would be uncomfortably close.

'You can only be the man that River Song has told us of.' Said the man at last. Strongly accented, it was lighter than the Doctor had half expected – he judged that it was quick when he was condemning something, but slow and paced when he praised something else. The Doctor tiled his head, and grinned.

'If the man is "The Doctor", then yes. I suppose I am.'

The Doctor's answer amused him: his gaze became level, and the corners of his mouth lifted upwards in a smile.

'My name is Altaïr.'

The Doctor's self assured smile froze slightly then. He had heard that name before, when Leonardo had eagerly discussed with the Doctor everything he thought he should know. Other phrases accompanied the name as it settled in the forefront of his thoughts, each said in a whisper of Leonardo's voice.

_…Founding fathers…all we know…armour…Ezio…Apple…_

'You have come to fill this turn of the prophecy,' he said. 'As River Song predicted that you would.'

And then his look became amused, and what he said next confirmed what the Doctor had suspected – that Altaïr knew more about him than he would have liked. And what Altaïr said next tugged on the strings of his nerves, making a near uncontrollable anger rise in him.

'And you came when we called.'

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><p><strong>More to come soon: there're just a few things that need tweaking here and there before I publish them. See you all on the next update! :D <strong>


	76. Chapter Forty Four Phase Four

**ALRIGHT GUYS, with Assassin's Creed 3 release SOON, here's how the updates of this will work. I'll be updating now, and later today. The sixth and final phase of this chapter will go up tomorrow evening, as I'm flying home from Greece back to the UK. I'm well aware that USA readers will have their copies of the game by then, and I hate you all for it. 31st and a couple of days afterwards its likely that there won't be many updates. ANND I think you can guess you guys know why :P I'm seriously excited for this game: its the most I've ever spent on one thing, and I can't wait to play it. Until then, the internet is my worst enemy - spoilers are going up left right and center and I LITERALLY CAN'T with it. Anyway, that's the updating situation. ON WITH THE SHOW! :D **

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><p>There was a moment of unspeakably tense silence, the tension heightening as the Doctor's anger grew and grew into something powerful and mad: his fists clenched at his sides and his mouth was drawn into a tight light line. And when he spoke, his words were forced into something calm and controlled, and they fought against his tone.<p>

'_I came when you called_,' he stated. 'I come tearing across the universe when I hear a thousand screams of people dying, I come to the aid of revolutionaries when it comes to take the power back from the man and give it to the people, and I come to stop wars and make peace. What gives you the right to tell me what I _already know?_'

Altaïr's expression was neutral and peaceful. 'Because when I saw my father executed by the Templar enemies, all the screaming I did was silent, locked inside me to turn into bitter resentment and ignorance. And Doctor, you did not hear me then. Nor did you hear the unspoken pain of the children cut down by Assassin and Templar alike, the crying that they did inside when they witnessed their family cut down in front of them, their mothers and sisters raped and their fathers and brothers killed if they refused to hand over what they had. For all your power, you did _not _hear every scream, and you didn't know.' Altaïr still looked placid as he said it. 'You knew _nothing._'

The Doctor was stubborn. 'I can't fix everything, things like wars are fixed points in the space time continuum, I can't stop everything and I can't save _everyone – _'

'For a man of your power, I find that hard to believe.' Altaïr said, cutting the Doctor short. The Apple in his hand hummed slightly, and Sef glanced up at it nervously. 'From all the things that I have heard and seen, Doctor, I doubt the intentions of a man who uses your kind of power for good.'

The silence that fell between the Doctor and Altaïr, the kind of silence that falls between two people of immense power and the resulting energy isn't sure where to place itself – so it floats, brimming with tension and ready to snap. The silence continued before Altaïr called the power to himself.

'Come,' he stated, and turned and walked back up the stairs. After a glance that was hard to read at the Doctor, Malik was the first to follow him. The Doctor and River remained, River watching the Doctor anxiously as he fixed his gaze to the floor, brimming with anger that was hard to expel. She knew better to talk before he did, and so was silent until he said anything.

'What has he seen?'

River thought about the question before answering. 'Too much,' she said after a while.

The Doctor lifted his head so his eyes fixed on the spot where Altaïr and his son had just been standing. His look darkened, and he said:

'I've seen more.'

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><p><strong>Short, I know, but there's an update later as I say. See you then! :D <strong>


	77. Chapter Forty Four Phase Five

**As promised, next phase! **

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><p>Altaïr was waiting for them when the Doctor and River climbed the stairs. Directly in front of them was a door that had two guards on either side of it, and as River murmured respectfully to them and they to her in turn, the Doctor took a moment to peer through the door. It wasn't a door, as such: more an archway that led onto a beautiful garden, where women sat around a pool with their tinkling laughter mixing well with the song of the birds that were hidden in the trees. The Doctor felt a strange pull to the place, and was taking a step forward when River moved on beside him. Distracted, the Doctor looked away, and the hold the garden had on him was broken. They took another set of stairs, although these were small and just led to a higher point, and walked straight on. Altaïr, Malik and Sef were standing in front of an impressive oak desk that was in front of huge glass windows that threw in all the light one could ever want into the room. In the dark crevices on either side of the plinth where the desk sat, there were bookcases being attended to by a few elderly looking men in white robes: when the Doctor and River approached, Altair turned and nodded at them: they nodded respectfully back, replaced books into the shelves and melted away. Altaïr then turned and looked at Malik, and there was something about his look: as if looking for some support in what he was about to do. Malik nodded his approval of whatever it was, and reassured, Altaïr turned back to the Doctor.<p>

'It is time to show you why you are here.'

And then he let go of the Apple. It didn't fall, but hung in the air as though something invisible was holding it. The Doctor stared at it as it bobbed gently in the air, much like Ezio's Apple had done when it was lifted from the grave. He was captivated by it – something about it was _calling _to him in a voice he knew but couldn't quite recognize It was a whisper at first, getting stronger and stronger until it was a shout he recognized and it that moment when he knew it, the voice exploded in his mind and the Apple let out a pulse of blinding night.

_- DOCTOR!_

He stumbled away from it as River fell away from it too, trying to shield her eyes. Malik seized Sef's arm and pulled the boy to him, spinning his face away from the light and holding his head against his chest before screwing up his eyes and turning his head away. Altaïr seemed to be hardly bothered by it – he stared at the Apple with a wary expression. He truly had no idea of what would happen next.

And then something did happen.

Symbols, structures, numbers and letters began to move from the Apple, whizzing through the air around it like bees around a hive, moving like imprints from a bright light. The Doctor saw thousands that he recognized, but they didn't seem to have a meaning: they were echoes of _eons_. They swirled and swirled, growing in numbers until they were a dense cloud of shapes and figures.

And then they began to form a shape.

Hands, at first. Slender, careful and caring hands that cradled the Apple nervously. As the hands moved, the Apple moved too, as if it was indeed being held by the apparition of fingers. And then arms, dressed in something thick. Although there wasn't any colour to be had in the symbols' shapes, those arms were wearing a hoodie the Doctor recognized It made his hearts jump up into his throat. Shoulders, a chest and then hair to finally frame a face that made his mouth go dry, with an expression of concern and bewilderment that he would give anything to see again. The figure was complete, but the symbols didn't stop moving – they swayed and whizzed within the figure and with its movement, constantly changing and constantly calculating.

Its lips moved.

'_Doctor? Can you hear me? Doctor?' _

Altaïr's eyes fixed on the Doctor as he stepped up towards the Apple, drawn to it by forces he couldn't understand. His lips parted in wonder, his eyes sparkled, and he lifted his hand to hover over the Apple held by the symbol hands. It glowed again, and the figure shifted, becoming smaller and roughly the size of a young woman, who stood in front of the Doctor as though she were actually there. Her eyes were still fixed on the Apple she held, as though the answer to the question she kept asking with a voice that was somehow strained, filtered, as though it was run through a machine would somehow leap from it.

'_Doctor?' _

The Doctor laughed quietly, as though this whole thing amused him. But it was a sad kind of laugh: one without any heart in it.

'Rose.'

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><p><strong>WELL. To the USA readers, stay safe during the hurricane! D: *heart with hands* and for those of you who get the game tomorrow, HAVE FUN AND I HATE YOU. <strong>


	78. Chapter Forty Four Phase Six

**MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! And how the HELL have we all been!? I meant to update sooner, but I got a job at a bookstore and despite loving it so much I am EXHAUSTED. I'm still exhausted but I decided to update today to say the aforementioned MERRY CHRISTMAS and let you all know that my dreams of getting this fic finished before New Years will NEVER come true :L  
><strong>

**Enjoy! :D**

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><p>River Song had never seen the Doctor like this. Giddy with excitement, locked in his own genius, trapped in the darkness of his being, murderous. Vengeful. Those were sides of the Doctor she'd seen countless of times, but never had she seen him so utterly <em>lost<em>. It was like everything was suspended for him at the sound of Rose's voice and her image, even as it was, constructed from a few symbols and imprints of time already gone. In all of his long life and the times that would come for after, the Doctor was existing solely for Rose in that one moment. As River watched, entranced by this side of her Doctor that she'd never seen before, Altair and Malik watched him with wary surprise. Altair had raised an eyebrow when the Doctor had said Rose's name, and then suddenly smiled, as if he understood the purpose of all this. Malik had responded after watching Altair judge the situation, and with a stern and wary look as if waiting for the apparition of Rose to attack the Doctor, he set himself on edge. However, when Sef turned his head from Malik's front to watch the proceedings, Malik let him. It would be good, he thought, for the boy to know what he might one day deal with and understand it later.

Wherever this image of Rose was coming from, she could hear the Doctor, but she didn't see him: she frowned at the glowing Apple in her hands at the sound of her name, the symbols that made up her body adjusting slightly to her nervous rocking. The Doctor continued to stare at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, even when she spoke again.

'_Doctor? Is that you?'_

'Yes,' The Doctor breathed suddenly. 'Yes, it's me. I'm here, Rose.' He said as if it surprised him. Seemingly unaware that he was doing it, he reached out and extended his fingers towards Rose's face. They passed straight through it, the symbols glowing and buzzing. He withdrew his hand quickly.

_'What's happening? I don't understand – a woman gave me this and told me to talk to you. But you've gone to the chippy…you're coming back, right? You're not leaving me here?'_

At her words, memories that were fuzzy came back into focus: he had been at the chippy without Rose that one time. The smell of leather and chips came back to the Doctor suddenly, and he breathed in as though he could commit those smells to his clearer memories. And then, an odd feeling came in: a feeling of strangeness from that time – something wrong. But he put it aside. He couldn't think about that now, now that Rose was here. Sort of.  
>'No, I come back. I promise. What year is it, Rose?'<p>

'_2005,' _Rose said a little hesitantly, her frown growing deeper.

'Have we been to Abstergo?'

Rose's face hardened instantly. _'This has got something to do with it, hasn't it?' _

'It's got everything to do with it,' the Doctor said, and struggled briefly with himself to clear his mind and focus on the problems at hand. 'Have you got anything to tell me, Rose? Anything to ask me? Anything at all, anything out of the ordinary, anything _weird_?'

Rose shook her head. _'I don't think so. I'm sorry.'_

'No, _no!_ Don't you be sorry!' The Doctor burst out, and the symbols that made up Rose bristled as she took a wary step back, holding out the Apple a little way ahead of her as if it might bite. The Doctor instinctively stepped forward, a mixture of regret on his face before it crumpled into anger with himself and everything as he waved his hands in the air. One hand settled on the back of his head and the other fisted at his side as he began to pace in front of Rose. River, Altair, Malik and Sef watched him without a word of support, suggestion or encouragement. Perhaps they sensed that this was something that the Doctor had to find within himself.

'I don't know what to do, Rose!' The Doctor suddenly burst out. 'I don't know what to do! There are Assassins and Templars and I've been involved in this for a very long time without me knowing – I've hidden everything from myself and how could I _ever _expect me to remember what to do if I _can't?!_' The Doctor abruptly bought his hands to his mouth, and then waved them about again. 'Everything rests on my shoulders and I can't do it. I can't do it Rose.'

All his energy left him in one breath, and he swayed on the spot, limp. Rose kept looking at the Apple, waiting for the Doctor to say something else. As he looked at her, hundreds of different emotions passed over his face, before he settled on turning away from her and pacing again, lost for anything to say or do.  
>And then:<p>

_'The ones who put that man in the machine: are you fighting them, Doctor?'_

The Doctor turned, and saw Rose's expression. It was very firm, and focused all of a sudden. Behind her, Altair tilted his head. Instantly, memories of the Doctor's first run with Abstergo came back to him – Subject Sixteen in the Animus. The way he had reached out to Rose, pleading for someone to hold him…  
>Rose clearly remembered it too.<p>

'Yes. Yes, it's them. And they've got someone else like him too.'

Rose nodded, as if that solved it. _'You've got to get them out. You can't let them win, Doctor. You can't.'_

'But how?!' The Doctor demanded. '_How _do I do that?!'

_'You just get in there, and you get those people out of there. Don't let them stop you, don't let __**anything **__stop you. What they do, it's __**sick**__, and you can't let them win. You just can't.'_

The Doctor stared at her. Rose stared back at the Apple. She wasn't confused anymore: she seemed to sense why she was doing this all of a sudden.

_'I believe in you, Doctor. You can do this.'_

And in that moment, everything made sense for the Doctor. Perfect, unmistakable sense. What they all had to do was clear. And in that moment when he realized it, Rose began to fade, the symbols blinking out of existence one by one.  
>'No! Rose!' The Doctor ran forward, and Rose began to panic as she faded out.<p>

'_Doctor?! What's happening?! Why aren't I -?' _

And then she was gone. The Apple hung in the air for a moment, powering down, and Altair stepped forward swiftly to catch it. The Doctor stared at the place Rose had been, and then finally seemed to realize that Altair was standing there instead.

'It is clear to me now, Doctor,' He said. 'You came here not to find out what needs to be done, but to _understand _it. Do you?'  
>When the Doctor chose not to answer him, Altair simply nodded respectfully, and placed the Apple on his desk before turning to River Song. 'Is this the part where you leave us?'<p>

River started: she was staring at the Doctor, speechless, when Altair spoke to her. 'Yes. Yes, I think so.'

At once, Sef was gone from Malik's hold and ran to River – she knelt down to hug the boy close as he threw his arms around her neck. 'You'll be a good boy, now, won't you?'

'Yes,' the boy sniffed. 'I promise.' He pulled himself away to go to his father, who laid a hand on his shoulder and watched the proceedings calmly. Malik stepped forward and bowed quickly to River, who returned the gesture.

'Thank you for all you have taught me, Mentor.'

'Travel safely, River Song.'

The Doctor walked away without a word, without waiting for River Song, and without looking back. After one look back at Altair and Malik, conveying all the things she didn't have time to say, River Song followed him out. She watched him in front of her as they walked the long walk from the citadel and the village – there was no bounce in his step as he walked. There was a real, dreadful purpose to the way he moved, and River knew what this meant. She said nothing, even when they got in the TARDIS, and they were gone from Masayf.

Nothing, nothing at all.

Until the TARDIS landed in front of her prison cell: back home, until the next whimsy took her, or until the Doctor needed her next. She couldn't say when that would be next, but she knew he always did.

She stepped out of the TARDIS, and into the cell. Behind her, the Doctor leant in the door frame, and looked at her. Angry. Confused.

'Did you know it would lead to this?' He asked her quietly, suddenly. River's lips tightened, because she couldn't lie. She'd had her suspicions. With something as big as this, and with the Doctor involved, how else could have it gone?

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm so sorry.'

'It's nobody's fault but mine,' the Doctor said suddenly. 'I should have stopped this when I saw all the signs, bought an end to it, but stupid me. I think I can fix these things, but I make them worse.'

'There is nothing you can do, but this.' River said firmly. 'You've got no other choice.'

The Doctor just looked at her, blaming and hating himself, until River stepped forward and kissed him. He didn't even react, and when she pulled back, his expression was the same. There was nothing she could do now.

'Good luck, my love.' Was all she said, and then she let him go. Watched him walk back inside his TARDIS and whisk himself on the one adventure he could never avoid. She sat in her cell for a long time after, wondering if there was anything she could have done, to prevent this.

And she could think of nothing.

* * *

><p><em><span>March 25<span>__th__, 1500. Rome._

The Doctor returned an hour after his disappearance, landing the TARDIS in one of the snug corners of the underground tunnels.

Leonardo had wanted to wait for his return, but only half an hour ago was reminded that he would need to return to Borgia supervision, or be caught out. Reluctantly, he'd left in the company of Giovanni and Zita after telling Ezio to send him news as soon as the Doctor returned. Ezio had set up watch for the Doctor with Amy and Rory at his side, and they were the first to hear the sound of the TARDIS echoing in the tunnels. Ezio took their cue: they simply stood. They didn't run after him, or shout for him – they simply stood and waited. Amy had her arms folded, and looked tense and angry. Rory watched her, worried. Even when the Doctor emerged from the tunnels, they didn't seem to react at all.

'Is she OK? What did she want?' Amy asked. Ezio didn't know what it meant, but the question was evidently important to her. The Doctor nodded.

'Yes, she's fine. And just as involved in all this as me.'

And then Ezio saw it: the look in his eye. The Doctor had sought and tried to pursue all other options, but in the end, he was left with only one. Ezio had had his growing suspicions for a while now, but he had wanted another end to this too, and had sought out others.

But this was truly it. No other way to turn.

'What preparations do we need to make, Doctor?' Ezio asked. Amy and Rory looked at him, confused, and became even more so when the Doctor answered Ezio as if he'd understood.

'We need a plan – we need to know where the Templars are, where they're hiding and how we're getting in and back out again. We need to know who it is we're saving: your descendent couldn't have been working the Animus alone – he must have had help. We need to get those people too, and then we need to disable the chances of the Templars trying to stop us.'

'What?' Amy demanded, but Ezio didn't answer her – looking at the Doctor, he nodded.

'I'll call my Assassins in from their contracts. How many do we need?'

'As many as we can get.'

'When do we leave?'

'Two days time, maximum.'

'It will be done.' Ezio didn't ask anything more, but left the room to call his people together – to tell the news of the last, inevitable action they had to take.

'Doctor, what's happening?' Amy demanded.

'What did River say?'

'What's happening?' Amy demanded again when the Doctor didn't answer either of them. 'What are we _preparing _for?'

All around them, the Assassin hideout seemed to spring to life in preparations that its occupants had clearly made before. The Doctor's eyes roved, focused with the thing unfolding at hand.

And finally, he spoke.

'War.'

* * *

><p><strong>WELL. Its the beginning of the end of this fic. An explosive, non stop, roller coaster beginning, but the end none the less.<strong>

**Thank you all one and all for the massive support up until now, and all your kind words. And since I probably won't be updating until my temp job is over, let me take the opportunity to wish you a VERY merry Christmas and a happy New Year. Take care everyone! **


	79. Chapter Forty Five Phase One

**OH MY LITERAL GOD. Right. Okay. Twenty phases to this chapter, I am not EVEN KIDDING. So you know when in Doctor Who the theme tune starts rising and oh shiittt something awesome's gonna happen? That's what I wanted here: it might not work out the way I planned since one of the phases is literally a letter long, BUT I hope you get what I mean. It'll be an effort to upload these, its early in the morning so PLEASE bear with me. **

**Alright, here we go!**

* * *

><p><em>March 26<em>_th__, 1500. Rome._

The two guards who watched over the center courtyard of the _Castello _at night never faltered. Never tired, never slept, and never blinked.

They were Daleks. And no man dared approached them.

'WHO APP-ROACHES?'

'Cesare Borgia.' Said the man, coming out of the shadows surrounding the courtyard, accompanied by the two Daleks who had seen Valentino with him. At once, the two guarding Daleks rolled aside as Cesare stepped forward to the huge pinecone like structure in the centre that shone in the brilliant moonlight. The two Daleks accompanying him hung behind, and as Cesare started to run his long, graceful hands down the structure, they all turned to look at each other with a whirr. Something silent passed between them, and it was missed by Cesare as his long fingers found a secret hinge, and pulled.

The Apple sat there in a nook, glowing brightly and singing softly.

'Do you hear that?' He murmured in raptured delight. With another whirr, the Daleks turned their eyes to his back. 'It _knows _me.'

Another whirr and another silent thing were shared between the four Daleks. And this time, it was an agreement.  
>Cesare didn't see this exchange either as he reached in and took the Apple from its hiding place. From it rose little circles, mimicking its structure, and like a fortune teller reading a crystal ball, Cesare passed his hands over it reverently. With another little whirr, the Daleks turned their eyes on the Apple. The blue lights focused on it.<p>

'Something is coming.' Cesare murmured. The Daleks looked up at him.

'The Assassins are moving.'


	80. Chapter Forty Five Phase Two

_2__nd__ of June, 2012. Scotland._

'Something is coming.' Said Vidic.

Traffic passed outside of the base with the muted roar of wheels on a wet road. Rain poured down the windows, casting warped reflections on the carpet, and the clock ticked. The Texan agent shifted in his seat, looking attentive and concerned, and Darren remained leant forward, hands folded in front of him on the table, and watched the rain fall.

Something was coming, all right. Maria had let in a pigeon the night before, after it had flown to peck at her window with a canister on its leg. In that canister had been a message.

From someone very unexpected.

'The Assassins are on the move.' Added Vidic, eyes shifting to all corners or the room, and Darren had to suppress his smile.


	81. Chapter Forty Five Phase Three

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'Something is coming,' Machiavelli said, looking up from the maps he and the Doctor had been looking over. The Doctor looked up to see the door open – Leonardo stepped through it first, followed by Ezio. His eyes met the Doctor's, and a grim sort of recognition was shared between them.

'We are on the move!' Leonardo announced, beaming. 'La Volpe has gathered his thieves, and Bartolomeo has split his men between the French and our efforts! Claudia has dispersed her girls amongst _il Vaticano_, to see what they can, uh, find out.' He finished a little awkwardly.

'Is it enough, Doctor?' Ezio asked from behind him. He still stood in the open doorway, ready to take off at a moment's notice. This last few days had been spent on the move – there was too much to be done. But it didn't pain the Doctor to answer as he did.

'No. No, not nearly enough.'

'Then what can we do?' Ezio asked without hesitation.

The Doctor's mouth made a slim, tight line.

'We send a message.'


	82. Chapter Forty Five Phase Four

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

Maria opened her window, frowning at the pigeon as it hopped inside onto her desk. It cooed gently at her, as if bringing good news, and waited patiently as she took the canister from its leg. At once it was gone in a flap and a puff of feathers, out of the window and out of sight.

Her hands shaking slightly, she opened the canister.


	83. Chapter Forty Five Phase Five

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'A message,' said the Doctor. 'That'll travel through all of time and space. It will be something that lasts, something that will remain with your people forever, hidden in plain sight but only, _only _found when the time comes.'


	84. Chapter Forty Five Phase Six

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland._

Maria dropped the canister at first. Swearing in a whisper, she snatched it up again, she took the little note wrapped up inside.


	85. Chapter Forty Five Phase Seven

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'Something ignored, right up until the last possible moment. The thing that _everyone _will put off.' The Doctor frowned, and then his voice descended into a murmur. 'I must have done this. Come on come _on_. What did I do?' He looked upwards, closed his eyes, and whispered.

'_What could I have done?_'


	86. Chapter Forty Five Phase Eight

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland._

Maria couldn't quite believe what she was reading at first, but as soon as she finally comprehended it she dropped it. Running to her bookcase, she took out her hidden compendium and dropped it on her coffee table with a thud. Her mug of tea fell off the side, spilling onto the carpet. She didn't care. Ripping open the cover, she pulled out the book and opened it at the very last page.  
>There was a fold there that she had never seen before.<p>

She opened it.


	87. Chapter Forty Five Phase Nine

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'Please please _please_,' The Doctor murmured, almost as if in prayer.


	88. Chapter Forty Five Phase Ten

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

Inside of the fold was a leaf of golden parchment.

_Oh god, _she mouthed as she fumbled with it. _Oh god. _


	89. Chapter Forty Five Phase Eleven

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'What – '


	90. Chapter Forty Five Phase Twelve

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

The parchment fell open.


	91. Chapter Forty Five Phase Thirteen

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'Did – '


	92. Chapter Forty Five Phase Fourteen

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

There was writing on it.


	93. Chapter Forty Five Phase Fifteen

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'I – '


	94. Chapter Forty Five Phase Sixteen

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

'Oh, _shit_,' Maria said aloud. 'You are fucking _kidding _me.'


	95. Chapter Forty Five Phase Seventeen

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

'_Do._'


	96. Chapter Forty Five Phase Eighteen

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

Maria ran from her apartment, barely managing to get her coat and almost forgetting her keys as she slammed the door behind her. The compendium of a century was left on her dining room table. She was pulling out her phone and shouting down it even before Darren picked up.

'Darren?! They've left us a note! What?! _WHO DO YOU THINK – _'


	97. Chapter Forty Five Phase Nineteen

_March 27__th__, 1500. Rome. _

The Doctor's eyes flew open.

'A memo.'


	98. Chapter Forty Five Phase Twenty

_1__st__ of June, 2012. Scotland. _

It had been written in the most elegant script Maria had ever seen.

"_To our friends in the future, _

_The time has come. June the 4__th__, 2012. This date is incompressible to us, but trust in that we will be there. It is time to make our stand. Be ready. _

_**Vittoria**__** agli **__**Assassini**__**!**_

_**Ezio Auditore Da Firenze."**_

* * *

><p><strong>OH MY GOD FINISHED. That was EFFORT to upload those, sorry for the flood your inboxes just got! :L Anyway, HEEERRREE WE GO, HERE COMES WAR. Thank you all so much for your continued support, can't wait to get this seen out! :D <strong>


	99. Chapter Forty Six Phase One

**ALRIGHT GUYS, an update at last! Its been a very busy time for me, but I have some great news. I've been offered a place at University of East London to study and eventually get a degree in Creative and Professional Writing, and I've taken it. I'm thrilled to bits over it, and its been a busy time of making sure I had the grades, the UCAS and the ability, and its been so worth it. More details after this phase! But yeah, I hope you like this - its been a long time without updating and my characterization may be a little rusty, but be assured I'm well up for getting back in the swing of things. Enjoy! :D **_  
><em>

* * *

><p>Since the foundations for war had been laid, a busy, dreadful hush fell over the Assassins preparations and those of their friends. No one had seen hardly anything of the Doctor, Ezio and Machiavelli: they had been locked away in the philosopher's office, going through a thousand plans that they would scrap and begin again. Leonardo had made himself scarce: if the Borgia got wind of the Assassins' frenzied activity and his connection to it, all would be lost. He remained with the Borgia most of the time, and everyone knew that he wished to be with Ezio and his friends, although nothing could be done about it. The Assassins themselves were spread out among the countryside, watching their enemies and calling in favours.<p>

This war was pivotal, for time and space and everything they held dear. But it was of their own making, and everything that came afterwards would be of their own doing.

* * *

><p><em>April 2<em>_nd__, 1500. Rome. _

When everyone was called to the hideout, there was a collective relief as well as a sinking dread. At last, these days of frenzied preparation would be over, and their efforts would give fruit.

But whether that fruit was poisoned was yet to be seen.

Everyone gathered in their own places, but the hush that fell over the place was suffocating. La Volpe was in his dark corner, but around him clustered three times the thieves accompanying him. They flanked him, watching distrustfully from the shadows. He surrounded himself with his den members for protection, for comfort, but remained on his toes. If the smoke got too thick, he would run.

Similarly, Bartolomeo had returned with a few mercenaries by his side. These men bristled with energy, muscle and weaponry: they clanked when they moved, and stayed loyal to Bartolomeo, remaining by his side. Perhaps Bartolomeo sought to prove his dedication with the presence of his men, but they made everyone nervous.

Claudia and Maria came alone. It was clear: their girls were not to be involved in the bloodshed. Amy seemed to have been released from her duties, as had Rory: they stood together at the front of the crowd, remaining close and staring ahead of them. They knew this kind of gathering, and what it meant. And sometimes they would look at each other sadly, as if they knew what it meant for them.

Most of the Assassins had returned from their business in the capital, except for Valentino, who had sent word with Giovanni that there had been news from one of their spies planted within the Borgia's military. Giovanni himself had relayed the message with little interest, but had sought Zita as soon as he had arrived home. His relief to see her there, tired but _there_, was immense, and while her back was turned to him he kept her image fixed in his head as a comfort for the times to come. Around him, everyone did the same. They knew what news was coming, even before it was said.

Ezio and the Doctor stood at the front of the room, looking almost blank. Ezio seemed wired and on edge, fingering the bracers on his blades, while the Doctor seemed _tired. _It was another war that, when cracked open, would reveal himself again, and the consequences were heavy on his shoulders.

'We go tomorrow.' The Doctor said. No one cried out, or shouted, but stared. Silent. 'We'll give you more information when we have it, but…' his eyes moved from one person to the next, following his own deep obligation to commit each face to memory. Perhaps their faces would be added to the thousands that he was responsible for. 'But remember this. This war, this fight would be nothing without the each of you. Whatever happens tomorrow and whatever comes of it, I _promise _each and every one of you that what you have done will not be forgotten. That _you _will not be forgotten. I promise you that generations to come will remember you, and thank you. Forever.' He nodded, and then his mouth tightened. 'For now, spend tonight with the people you treasure the most. Remember what is so good about them, and what they have done for you. You'll need it.'

Silence. Realising the speech was over, everyone departed. Amy and Rory remained to walk up to the Doctor. They stared at him and he stared back, wondering if they still recognized him, and then in the next second Amy had thrown her arms around his neck and Rory had wrapped his arms around them both. The Doctor gathered them close, and the three of them breathed in each other, and held it in their minds.

'We love you.' Amy told him seriously.

'The Ponds,' the Doctor murmured with the saddest smile. 'The wonderful, time travelling Ponds.'

'With you until the end.' Rory said. His and the Doctor's eyes met, and something he had never seen in the Doctor before passed between them. A certain kind of sadness, resolute misery, and something within him turned.

'Until the end.' Said the Doctor, like he was remembering a tail end of a dream - a horrible and vivid nightmare.

* * *

><p><strong>So yeah! University, Christ on a bike. Really, I wouldn't have dreamed of it if it wasn't for my fanfiction and the overwhelming positive response I got, and how I've come in leaps and bounds since I first started out with an old, badly written crossover. So thank you. Thank you to each and everyone one of you who've kept reading and supporting me. Its because of you that I'm off to uni, and that I have the confidence to do it. <strong>

**Here's to the rest of this fic, and to you. **

**Thank you again. :D **


	100. Chapter Forty Six Phase Two

**ANNNNND ITS 100 CHAPTERS! *PARTY STREAMERS AND CLAPPING* Alright guys, I'm literally writing the last chapters as you read this. We're on the home stretch, and I have a lot of feels. A lot. This chapter will be uploaded in its entirety today, and I hope to be updating a lot after that. Ideally, one chapter/phase a day, depending. This is it. This is really it. I can't wait for you all to read it. **

**Enjoy, as always! :) **

* * *

><p>In the middle of the night, Ezio sat with wine. He had poured it for the want of something to do, but was not in the mood to drink. He swirled it around his goblet, and in the light of the candle, it suddenly struck him that it looked a lot like blood. Suddenly disgusted, he pushed it away from him, and stared at it.<p>

He'd been fighting since he was seventeen years old for a number of things. But they were always things he could understand, see, and touch. Liberty was something he saw and heard. An understanding of his purpose in this world was his own personal victory.

But this? This war for time and space? He could not see, touch, or hear it. He could not understand it. And so he knew he would go to battle tomorrow without understanding what he was fighting for. The thought did so not terrify him as _freeze _him. And that was more disconcerting than being scared.

'Ezio?'

He started, and spun around in his seat. Claudia was there holding a candle, looking in on Ezio with a sad smile. Their mother stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, and she looked in on Ezio with a look so full of emotion that it was almost blank.

And there was nothing left to say on the matter that could fix it. All that they wanted to do was perhaps approach him, and spend some time in his company. He reached out his hand to Claudia, and with a look of utmost relief, she went forward. With the candle forgotten about on the table, she took Ezio's hand tight in her own, and in a gesture that they had not done since they were tiny children, Ezio pulled his sister onto his lap. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she tucked her head under his chin, her hand clinging to his clothes. Maria stood over them, elegant as ever, and as ever watchful. Ezio reached up and gripped her arm as she in turn gripped his. A mark of respect, and of equals.

And this is how the three passed the night, surrounded by each other. Of what each reminded them of what had happened, and what was yet to come.

* * *

><p>'Where're we going?' Amy called up to Rory, who was scaling a ladder a little awkwardly above her.<p>

'Up to the roof!' He called back. 'La Volpe. He, uhm, showed it to me one night.'

'And _why _are we going up there?'

'Just wanted you to see it.'

Rory scrambled up onto the roof, and extended his hand down to Amy. She let herself be helped up, complaining about it all the while.

'Rory, we've got stuff to be doing. The Doctor isn't going to do this on his own and we really…need…to…' Her words came to a slow, stuttering stop as she took in the whole of Rome, exactly as it was meant to be. The streets glistened with lamp lights and moved with the people heading back home like a gentle tide at night. And the whole of the city sprawled itself out like a map, its fingers reaching in to the darkest corners and illuminating every beauty it could reach.

'I just – '

Amy turned to look at Rory, who was motioning awkwardly with his hands. He froze when he realised Amy was looking at him, but with what seemed like a very concentrated effort he carried on talking.

'This city. It's beautiful, and – and pretending to be a thief with everyone else really made me see this place as exactly what it is. It's just that it never _stops_. It never stops changing and I'd be in one place one day and then come back to the same spot and I wouldn't recognise it. And I'm not very good at climbing – ' he winced slightly. 'But looking down on it, all those people and getting to know the city I realised that this place is just a beacon for everything else. Everything that's happened and will ever happen is because of this place, and it _burns_, Amy! It burns with all these people and ideas and possibilities and then I realised that even though there was all of this that made me feel like that, you -' he came to a halt, and was staring at his wife as if he couldn't quite grasp the words while she was looking at him.

'What, Rory?' Amy breathed. She was literally hanging on every word. She'd never heard him so vocal, so incensed. And when he finally looked her in the eye, her breath caught in her throat. She could almost count the stars that seemed to cluster around his head in the sky.

'You burn brighter.'

There was a moment, infinite in its capacity, that was shared between them. And it was filled with the astounding realisation that perhaps there was something that moved within them, strings that crossed and tied because despite one ceasing to exist and the other remaining trapped in a box, they would always return. And that was the way it would stay.

Amy took two steps forward, and Rory remained where he was until he leant in when Amy's mouth came towards his.

And there was where they remained, as the universe wished it so, and as they themselves did.

* * *

><p><strong>I put the two scenes together, it was a little short as it is, and we're done with those one word updates :P Rory MAY be a little bit OOC there, I was really struggling with it, but I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out! More updates on the way today! :) <strong>


	101. Chapter Forty Six Phase Three

**I love this. I love love LOVE this one. Enjoy! :D **

* * *

><p>The Doctor's words accompanied Giovanni late into the night and made it impossible to sleep. Stretched out on his back, he looked up at the ceiling and listened quietly to what the night had in store. So far, he'd learnt that no one was sleeping: in the bunk underneath him, Gabriele constantly turned, obviously restless. Vitorio was silent for once, and the absence of his constant energetic rustle disturbed Giovanni himself. But if he listened quietly, and very intently, from the next room over he could hear the gentle scrape of a knife on wood. Severino was awake. And since no one here in the bunks wanted to talk, or had no courage to admit their fears, he climbed gently out of his bunk and walked out of the room, ignoring the feel of every pair of eyes on his back from the dark.<p>

It was the kind of night where a man was entitled to keep his thoughts to himself. And Giovanni respected that.

'Come in, Giovanni.'

Giovanni himself hadn't even knocked. Lowering his hand, he opened the door very quietly, and before looking at the older man he shut the door gently behind him, making sure the click wasn't so loud to wake those who had managed to sleep. And then he turned around.

Severino was whittling away at his desk. It was a hobby of his, a passion that he fit in around his duties as one of Ezio's almost second-in-command like figures. Lit by the moonlight coming through the window, Giovanni could instantly see that it was the Doctor's box he was carving, its edges and lines taking shape under Severino's careful eye. He smiled at Giovanni, and held it out to him.

'What do you think so far?'

Severino stepped forward, and took the carving gently from him. Up closer, Giovanni was impressed all the more with the workmanship. 'Very true to life.' He said, and handed it back. Severino nodded seriously, and then after turning it in his hands, put it back on his desk.

'Indeed. But what _is _true to life? It is something I have struggled with this past month.' He said quietly, and motioned towards a few cups he'd carved for himself. Giovanni, suddenly thirsty, nodded. Severino reached for the jug of water to his right as Giovanni took a seat opposite him.

'I think we all have struggled.' Giovanni said.

'Hmm.' Severino agreed vaguely, passing Giovanni a full cup, which he drank slowly. 'What do you think of this, Giovanni?'

'Of what?'

'Of _all _of this,' Severino replied, motioning again to the little carved TARDIS on his desk. 'Why he is here, with us, of all places.'

Giovanni knew exactly who he meant, but did not know why Severino was asking him, of all people. He was an intelligent enough, he supposed, to get by better than most. But this sort of conversation was beyond him. Surely, there was someone better Severino could ask –

'Come now.' Severino said gently, and Giovanni started guiltily. 'You underestimate yourself. I am done with Machiavelli and our talks of space and time. The man is too clever. _I _am too clever for my own good. I would like to hear an opinion from an honest young man. From you. Please.' He sat back in his chair, holding his cup, and Giovanni felt like all of _Roma _had turned to stare at him. Like a light had been thrown on him, and squinting into it he could see a thousand people waiting for him to speak. And though it was only Severino, Giovanni wondered if his opinion would actually be right.

After a moment to compose himself, he began.

'From what the Doctor and the _Maestro _have told us, him being here is no accident. The meddling of the Templars bought him here, when they did not mean to,' he said slowly, and Severino nodded. Not knowing whether or not that meant he was right or Severino was just giving a sign that he was still listening, Giovanni ploughed on. 'But there have been many clues left by himself, and signs from things beyond us that this meeting was always planned. That this war tomorrow must always happen. But I feel that beyond that, it will not be complete. Something else must happen, to mend the circle that time was running smoothly around…' a horrible thought occurred to him. 'And that it is not _our _place to do that… we're nothing but pawns.' He reached out for the cluster of little figures Severino had been carving – it was a piece from the chess set he had been working on for Machiavelli, his skill earning enough admiration for the man to pay a great deal for it. He turned the tiny pawn in his hand, running his hand along the ridges. It wasn't shaped like a usual piece, and with a slight start he recognised his own family's coat of arms carved on its side. With a glance towards the figures in their entirety, he understood: Machiavelli had commissioned a chessboard that featured the Assassins and the Templars. He looked up: Severino was watching him carefully, judging his reaction. To see his place in all of this made real, Giovanni had to struggle with himself to carry on. Wordlessly, he picked up a second and a third chess piece and scanned them quickly. Two kings. In the moonlight, he recognised the Auditore emblem, and on the other, the Borgia's. He placed them on the table in front of him, facing opposite each other. An opposition, as it were. He placed his own pawn just behind Ezio's, and without asking permission, reached over and placed the TARDIS carving in between the two kings.

'Pawns,' he said again. 'Players in this game that have little sway over what goes on, to do only as they are bidden.' Holding his own little pawn again, he tapped it on Severino's desk. 'I would wish to know the true meaning of what we will do tomorrow, and what it will mean for eternity. But I know I never will. It is not my place to understand. Just to fight for whoever I choose.' He stopped tapping the pawn, and set it down on the table again. There was a moment of complete and utter silence that almost rang in its intensity, and then Giovanni said, very slowly:

'And I'm sure that tomorrow one of us will pay the price for it.'

He knocked the pawn onto its side. Severino remained silent for a while.

'What did you come to me to speak about?' He said quietly. Relived that what he'd just said wasn't going any further, Giovanni swallowed.

'About – about Zita. I was wondering, perhaps, if you would think it appropriate – '

'It is not up to me to deem whether or not what you do with your life is appropriate or not,' Severino interrupted him smoothly. 'But I will tell you she is on the roof, looking over her choice of weaponry for tomorrow. And I am not sure about her, but I know that this night I would like some company.'

Giovanni shut his mouth, stunned. He got out of his seat. Severino reached behind him and opened his window.

'_Grazie_,' Giovanni murmured uselessly, and bowed in his direction. Severino just nodded and smiled, and closed the window after the boy as he climbed out of it. Sitting back in his seat, he looked at the pieces how Giovanni had laid them out, and was deeply troubled.

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><p>Giovanni scaled the wall in no time at all, and scrambled up onto the roof. The moonlight fell upon him, and from here it was almost as bright as the sun. Squinting a little, he made out the curved lines of someone sitting away from him, her back turned, and her hair almost silver flames. His heart was in his mouth. Taking measured steps as to not appear too eager, he made his way across the roof. Zita was sat with her crossbow in her lap, her back almost as straight as a poker. She ran a cloth over its workings, testing joints and springs. As Giovanni sat down and brought a knee close to his chest to hug awkwardly, he saw that her sword and dagger had already been seen to: they lay straight at her feet, gleaming in the moonlight. She didn't look around at him, and he perhaps that someone who did not know her as well as he did would think they were not welcome, but he knew better. Her presence seemed to greet him, and something about her eased when he shifted closer.<p>

'You could not sleep?' He asked, looking out over the city.

'I didn't try,' she replied, holding up the crossbow and turning it in her hands. 'Too much to be done.'

'Too much to be thought about.' Giovanni replied.

'That too.'

A silence filled with endless possibilities fell between them, spiralling off into the abyss where wasted time will go. Giovanni knew Zita wasn't a woman of many words, she just observed. Took heed of everything around her, became a face in a crowd, and blended into the background. Her way was not of words, and Giovanni liked spending time in her silent company. Everything seemed to make sense when his own thoughts were all he could hear.

Giovanni also knew that she wasn't a woman looking for grand gestures, or proclamations. So, battling with himself and gathering the courage, he spoke.

'The Doctor advised us all to spend our nights with those who mattered most to us. And if you are willing, I would like to spend mine with you. And perhaps after tomorrow, if we are both alive and willing, I would like to do the same with all the nights that come afterward.'

It was a tense, long moment that Zita spent setting her crossbow at her feet and staring out at the night, her hands clasped in her lap. Everything came to a halt, though, when she turned to look at him.

'I accept.'

Giovanni smiled shakily. 'Good. I am glad.'

'As am I.' Zita looked away from him, and pointed up. 'Were you ever taught about the stars?'

Giovanni shook his head. 'I never had the pleasure of growing up underneath them.'

But then as Zita began to explain the constellations they could see, and Giovanni listened attentively, he realised that all the time he had spent as a child in schoolrooms under the influence of those who taught him would be worth it to spend the rest of his life in her bright light.

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><p><strong>Wee bit of OC shipping, I guess. Technically? The names were the ones I grabbed from my save file of Bro'hood, I invented their personalities and all sorts purely for this fic. I'm tempted to write a little bit more about them, but I think I'll leave them inside this fic. Maybe it would ruin them otherwise? I'm waffling :L Anyway, one more update on the way! :D <strong>


	102. Chapter Forty Six Phase Four

A buzz of the screwdriver, and it was complete. Grinning, very pleased with himself, the Doctor lifted up the tool to his face. It was like an eyepiece of sorts, with glass covering the right eye, a few wires in its handle and a switch at the side. He turned it on, and put it on his face. At once, numbers ran down his little screen, and he could see beyond the doors of his TARDIS and into the empty tunnels beyond. With another tap, the seven others that he had built over the space of two hours lit up at his feet, flashing numbers, and he grinned. Touching his piece again, he said, 'Hellooooooo Doctor!'

After a second's relay, the eye tools chirruped _'Hellooooooo Doctor!_' Back at him. His grin grew wider.

'Excellent!' He said, turning off his piece again. One headset for everyone, so that when tomorrow came they would all be able to talk to each other. But at the thought of tomorrow, the Doctor's grin faded. It became almost fixed for a second as reached out and picked up the one he had built for Ezio.

This…this thing was something that the Doctor had not wanted to happen. In the weeks that led up to this moment, hanging over the precipice of the unknown, he had fought so hard against the eventuality that people would have to die.

And here they were, seeking out those who mattered most, and preparing for a war.

And yet, _it still wasn't enough_. There was something inside the Doctor, twisting and curling, and it screamed that time would not be fixed, even after people died. He could feel it. The very space around him seemed to shudder, at the very point of breaking. Listening to it, the Doctor took a deep breath, and shut his eyes.

'Come on _come on_,' he murmured. 'What is there left to _do_?'

Time hummed. And then, something hidden unlocked, and it exploded in his head. With a yelp, he was back in 2005, at a train station. There was a woman with a pen, and he was saying something to her…numbers…

'_THE PEN!_' He shouted, and as footsteps came running down the tunnels, he scrambled to his feet.

'Doctor?! What is it?!' He heard Amy shout after him.

'It's _me!_' He shouted back, swerving around the console and hurtling into another room.

'It's _always _you!'

'Yes yes, but in a good way this time!' The lights in the costume room came on. The clothes that Ezio and Leonardo had worn to the future were neatly folded on a table by the door, but the Doctor streaked past them and threw himself between the racks of clothing. 'I tied up all the loose ends! This is it! The one thing I've been missing, and _it was the first thing I did!_'

'What are you talking about!?' Amy and Rory, who both narrowly avoided a pair of shoes that were flung across the room. There was the sound of running footsteps behind them and then Ezio was there, his eyes wide.

'I heard shouting! Is everything alright?!'

'I – ' Rory began, and was nearly smacked in the face with a lady's blouse. 'You know, I don't even _know _anymore.'

'GOT IT!'

The three of them looked around to see the Doctor pull a long brown coat out of a heap of clothes. He looked at it fondly for a moment, and then his face lit up in excitement as he went through the pockets.

'Doctor – ' Amy began, but then he pulled out a biro – one with blue ink. He brandished it at them.

'Look at this! _It's chewed!_'

'Yeah, gross.' Amy said, wrinkling her nose. 'Doctor, why are you so excited – '

'IT'S CHEWED!' He shouted again, and then, throwing the coat over his shoulder and holding onto it with one hand, he hurtled past them. Ezio stepped neatly out of the way as the Doctor ran up to the console, and turned to brandish the pen at them again.

'Not _just _chewed, oh no. I went and found a pen that _Lucy_ had, the one in her pocket, the one that at some point she would have chewed in thought and left her DNA all over it, meaning that _we can find her_,' he stuck the end of the pen in a slot in the console, and at once the screen lit up with numbers and DNA strands. Gleeful, he seized the handles and swung on it, laughing. '_And everyone else in the building!_' He hit a button, and a picture of a woman with blonde hair and a small smile flashed up. _LUCY STILLMAN_, said the screen, and the Doctor laughed some more.

'Wait, this is her? _The _Lucy?' Amy demanded.

'Yes, yes!' The Doctor pushed his face up close to the screen, eyes scanning the lines of text that went scrolling by, and then shouted again as he smacked down on another button. Three more faces appeared. 'And _these _are the people we'll be rescuing tomorrow! He turned around and threw out his hands. 'WHO DA – wait, no, I promised I'd never say that again.' He waved his hands at Ezio, Amy and Rory as if they'd interrupted him, and he fixed his attention on the screen again. There was a little map in the corner now, spinning. It looked like the plans to a very large building. Four red dots had appeared in it. Three flashed as the Doctor read out a few names.

'Rebecca Crane, Shaun Hastings and – '

'Desmond.'

Silence. Amy, Rory and the Doctor turned to look at Ezio, who suddenly had an unreadable expression. 'He is called Desmond.'

Behind the Doctor, the screen flashed with a picture of a man who looked remarkably like Ezio, although much younger. A solid block of text ran down next to it.

'How did you know that?' The Doctor asked.

'Not so long ago, a god spoke through me to him. I have always wondered what the name meant. A spirit, an apparition, maybe.' He stepped forward, looking up at the face on the screen. 'And now I know. A descendant. My own flesh and blood, in the machine that you spoke of.'

'The Animus. Reliving your memories.' The Doctor confirmed.

There was a moment of absolute silence again.

'We'll get him out, Ezio.' The Doctor said. 'There might not be much left of him, but we will get him out.'

'What will be left of him, Doctor?' Ezio asked.

The Doctor was silent for a moment. Ezio looked at him steadily, awaiting an answer that he would not shy away from, or reject. And the Doctor was forced to give it to him.

'Too much of you.'

Years of hardship showed as Ezio's face remained completely blank.

'I will go after him tomorrow.' And without waiting for anyone to agree, walked away from them and out of the TARDIS without a second look back.

Amy and Rory sought for something to say, but found nothing. And as the Doctor stared after Ezio, all he could would think was that something – something was still there.

Something was still very, _very_ wrong.

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><p><strong>That's it for today! An update tomorrow! See you then :) <strong>


	103. Chapter Forty Seven Phase One

**DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER WHEN I WAS GONNA UPDATE EVERYDAY**

**YEAH ME TOO AHA**

**More of an explanation under this, but enjoy! **

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><p><em>3<em>_rd__ of June, 2012. Scotland._

It was the day before his world was going to go to shit, and Darren McDonald had never felt better. He walked into the headquarters, calm as you like, met the eye of every guard that he passed with the firm, quiet belief that they were going to be the first ones to get it went things got fucked up. No more sneering at him, or laughing. It was _his _turn.

He and Maria had been working nonstop to make sure that everything was in place for tomorrow. The Moderns (As Maria had come to call them) had contacted her last night to relay their positions, with an urge to join them when all hell broke loose. They'd follow the Doctor's lead, they said, and would also try to evacuate Stillman, Hastings, Crane and Miles while they were at it.

Things could only go to plan, as far as Darren was concerned.

He passed the ID check, and then walked into the front of the building. His eye fell as it always did to the desk where Maria should be working, and braced himself for the way his heart would lift into his mouth, but was spectacularly disappointed and surprised to find that it wasn't Maria at all - a lady with brown hair was in Maria's seat, typing away at her computer. Suddenly unsure of himself, Darren slowed down. Maria hadn't told him that she wouldn't be in her usual spot, so what was this all about?

Something wasn't right here.

Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, Darren approached the girl at the desk. She didn't look up. He cleared his throat, and she looked up with a frown, as if he'd interrupted something very important.

'Oh, uhm…' he began awkwardly. 'D'you know where the other girl went?'

'What other girl?' The new receptionist demanded in one of the roughest accents Darren had ever heard.

'Uh – the one who's here usually. Blonde…Mary?' His guess didn't sound even vaguely passable, even to him. Luckily, it was clear that this new receptionist was bored of talking to him.

'Dunno. I just got told to come up here for the day.'

'Okay. Cheers.' Darren said awkwardly, and went to turn away, but then her eyes fell on his badge.

'You're Darren McDonald?'

'Uh, yeah?'

'Someone upstairs wanted to see you. Someone called Vidic? He said to give you the message as soon as you came in.'

_Fuck_. 'Oh. Uhm. Thanks.' Darren finished uselessly, and then went for the lift. He frowned as he hit the button for the top floor, where his old office was, and continued frowning at the doors as he went up. Maria gone off somewhere, and Vidic wanted to see him? The thought made him nervous, and it didn't help that something in him was squirming. Something wasn't right…something wasn't right…

And even when he was out of the lift, something still wasn't right. The feeling was getting worse, right up to the point he knocked on Vidic's door.

'_Who is it?'_ Vidic called out, almost singing.

'McDonald, sir.'

'_Ah, the very man I wanted to see! Come in, come in!' _

Darren opened the door, and found out exactly what was wrong. Kevin, Maria's brother, was stretched out on bloody carpet with a bullet hole in his head. Stunned, useless and blank, Darren looked up. Vidic was grinning. Maria was restrained in a corner. She was gagged. Screaming.

Someone came up behind Darren, and the barrel of a gun met the back of his head with a smack that went through his entire being. Maria screamed again when everything went an instant black.

* * *

><p>It was pain first. Then everything else happened.<p>

Darren was not aware of it, but after today, everything would be pain.

Groggy, and his head bursting with agony, he opened his eyes. It was a struggle to focus, but when the cloud was lifted from his eyes, he started screaming. Kevin's face had been turned towards him, that bullet hole in his forehead staring at him like a third eye, sitting on top of his two like a pyramid. His other eyes, his _real _eyes, were empty and wide. Kevin kept staring, and when the screams weren't enough, Darren pulled himself away frantically, only to find that his hands were bound behind him.

'I think that's quite enough.' Said a voice he recognised, and instantly a pair of hands came down on his shoulders. He was yanked upwards, and his world spun painfully again. He moaned, the fog descending over his eyes again as his head lolled on his neck. Someone behind him forced him to kneel, and a figure made its way forward through the mist. He recognised it, and through the pain, he found rage.

'I'm gonna fucking kill you,' he said slowly, focusing on every word. There was anger in each sound, every syllable, and Darren filled himself up with it to the brim. 'Fucking kill you – '

Someone punched him in the jaw; a fabulous right hook. Pain exploded in his head again, and he felt his lip split. Tasted blood. He could hear Maria's muffled scream again.

'As I'm sure you thought you would.' Said Vidic calmly, as if he and Darren were having pleasant small talk. Vidic, squatting in front of him, tilted his head with an almost sympathetic look. 'I must thank you, though,' he said loudly. There was a strange look in his eye that Darren didn't like, something twinkling, and powerless to do anything, Darren bared his bloody teeth in a painful grimace. 'For being so helpful.'

As Vidic straightened up and stepped away, Darren tried to wrench his shoulders from the grip of the guard behind him, but he held firm. Vidic walked around Kevin's body so that Darren was forced to see it, out of the corner of his eye, like a bloody ghost. Vidic glanced down at the body, and made a soft _tut _noise under his breath, like the blood on the carpet was mud that a dog had bought in with it. And then he carried on talking.

'For if it wasn't for you, Darren, we wouldn't have found _you_.' he looked at Maria then, and Darren looked too. She was in a state as bad as his: her makeup was streaked with blood and tears. On her knees and unable to make a sound, she glared up at Vidic's smiling face. And behind her, holding her still, was the Texan agent. He looked at Maria like he barely knew what he was doing, and when Darren growled and attempted to wrench himself away again, he looked up in his direction. And there was something about his blank look that suddenly spoke volumes of _guilt_, as if his time spent playing happy agents with all the children from Abstergo had come to an end that he didn't like. Darren didn't say a word, but as soon as the agent's eyes met his, he looked away. He saw what Darren promised.

_I'm going to rip you apart. _

'To think, an Assassin within our very midst!' Continued Vidic, looking down at Maria and smiling as if the fact delighted him. 'Of course, we _knew _there was someone working against us, but we had no idea it was you!' His smile grew wider. 'You're a very clever girl, Maria. But it was a bad idea to ever trust Darren McDonald.' He turned his head to eye Darren over his shoulder, his hands folded neatly behind his back. There was that look again, that nasty look the bullies in school give you when they're leading you on. Darren grunted as he attempted to wrench himself away again. Vidic smiled. 'Why, Maria, it was Darren who told your brother you were being held here, to lead him into our trap – '

'THAT'S A LIE!' Darren roared as Maria's eyes went wide. 'THAT'S A FUCKING LIE!'

'It was an awful shame,' Vidic continued as Darren fell silent. 'Such a _young _man,' he said almost sadly, nudging Kevin's trainer with his foot. 'But. Two Assassins with one bullet is a boon that we won't waste.' He sighed, and then brightened again. 'But like I was saying, my dear. It was a very bad idea to trust Darren McDonald. He's been very bad, I'm afraid to say, and has been telling us all about your little adventures playing Assassins – '

'DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, I NEVER - '

Darren was punched in the face again, but this time Maria didn't scream. She was entirely focused on Vidic, and Darren was horrified to his core. He started whimpering.

'It's a lie, Maria, _please_…'

With his back turned to Darren, Vidic raised his eyebrows in this expression that said: _Do you see? _With a resolute shake of the head, turned neatly on the spot, and approached Darren again. The guard's grip on Darren's shoulders went like a vice when Vidic bent and freely went to the collar on Darren's coat. Helpless, Darren's eyes widened as Vidic neatly unhooked from underneath the fabric what he recognised instantly as a microphone. With another nasty smile at Darren, Vidic turned away again, and showed it to Maria with all the gentleness of a child showing his mother the baby bird he found dead in the garden, fallen from its nest in the apple tree.

'He has been with us all along,' he said softly. 'And we know that your friends, past and present, are coming tomorrow to fight. And we will be ready.' He said this almost apologetically.

'Please, Maria…' Darren moaned, but Vidic had squatted to Maria's level with a gentle expression.

'I'm so sorry.' He said quietly, and Maria lowered her head. And when Vidic relaxed, Maria's face flashed upwards with a flaming look and rammed her head into his. Vidic fell back with a roar of pain, and as Maria lunged forward, the Texan agent had to yank her back.

'Take McDonald to the basement.' Vidic growled as he was helped to his feet by a few guards. He dabbed at his lip, and his fingers came away red. He glared at Maria, who glared back at him triumphantly. 'I'll deal with her personally.'

'Get off of me – MARIA!' Darren yelled as he was yanked backwards out of the room. He drummed his feet on the carpet, kicking his heels, but it was no use. He was being hauled out of the door when Vidic stepped in front of Maria, blocking his view of her. 'MARIA!'

'Shut up,' said his guard from behind him, and hit him with the butt of his gun.

And then everything went back to black.

* * *

><p><strong>ALRIGHT GUYS, HERE'S THE DEAL. <strong>

**When I say "I hit a writer's block." I mean it. I could not write a single sausage. I spent hours rewriting absolutely terrible stuff, trying to work things out, and it got me so down that I ended up walking away from this fic and contemplating myself for a little bit. Things haven't been great here: I've struggled with depression before and its beginning to happen again. Its nothing I can't handle, but things have gone a little bit screwy and I forget what's important to me when they do. So here's a promise: I'll try to update as much as I can, and I won't forget how amazingly significant and special this fic and you guys are to me. **

**And in that attempt to get myself feeling better, I've started on a new adventure. Gameplay commentary! I'm up and running on YouTube now, doing a lot of Assassin's Creed and walkthroughs. Right now, its Bioshock Infinite! If you're into that kind of thing you can find me there by adding _/-user/-ifearnofishgaming _to the normal YouTube URL, just without the dashes :) **

**Anyway, that's the deal! I have a few more updates for you guys tonight, and I hope to be on back on track with myself and fanfiction as soon as I can. Thanks for sticking with me guys, love to you all. :) **


	104. Chapter Forty Seven Phase Two

**Yaaaay update!**

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><p>The first thing that Darren saw afterwards was the floor. Moaning as everything came back slowly and painfully, he saw it swing gently underneath him as a door somewhere beyond him opened. It made him feel sick. And then, a small flight of stairs. He recognised those.<p>

He was off to the basement.

He tried to struggle weakly, but Jesus _fuck _everything hurt. He moaned again as his guards dragged him down the stairs, holding him up between them. His shoes thudded against every stair, and with massive effort, forced himself to look up.

Hastings had stood up in his cell, squinting into the light, and his mouth fell open when he recognised Darren. Ignoring him for the moment, he was forced to his feet as one of his guards opened the cell across from Hastings, and braced himself as he was thrown in. He didn't run for the door as it locked – he just picked himself up very slowly and leant against the bars, only sighing when the upstairs doors closed.

He was waiting for Hastings to say something, and he didn't disappoint.

'What's going on?' He demanded. Before he answered, Darren gingerly prodded the back of his head, and instantly regretted it. It really, really hurt.

'We got found out. Vidic planted a microphone on me.'

There was a scuffling noise, and a clang that made his ears hurt as Shaun kicked his bars.

'Me too mate.' He said.

'How could you - ?!' Shaun spluttered. 'I had you down as a moron, but this - !'

'_I didn't know!_' Darren yelled back at him, pounding on his bars, never mind the pain. 'I went in there, I was with her and I didn't fucking know, all right?!' He sighed, and fuck it, he was crying. 'They killed her brother too, right in front of her, and it's all my fault.'

Shaun fell silent. Darren resented it. He wanted Hastings to yell at him some more, to validate all his grief and guilt and ease its burden. But he'd gone completely silent.

'I don't believe it,' he said.

'What?' Darren demanded it.

'You fell in love with her, didn't you?'

Darren didn't answer him.

'How bloody cliché,' Shaun laughed breathlessly. 'And I bet she fancied you too, right? Or at least, you thought she did?'

When Darren didn't answer him again, Shaun howled.

'Oh this is bloody perfect. How the tables have turned,' he hissed. 'You could have saved us all, and you walked right into a trap.'

Darren glared at him. 'The Assassins are coming tomorrow.'

Shaun fell silent, and Darren was pleased to hear it.

'What?' He breathed.

'The Doctor and that lot, they're coming tomorrow, to get Miles.' Darren had quit smoking the day he met Maria, but god knew he could do with a fag right then. His head swam with her and everything he'd done, and dear god it hurt. 'And I don't know about you Hastings, but I'd save your breath for when they're here. Maybe you can shout for them to save your girlfriend before they tear this place to the ground and bury you under it.'

Darren waited for Hastings to say something else, to argue with him some more, but he heard his feet scuff on the floor as he walked away from his bars. Darren felt like laughing, and opened his mouth to do it, but there was no sound. He just cried instead, his head thumping, knowing that Maria thought he'd betrayed her and how everything may as well be lost.

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><p><strong>In which I called myself out on my own horrific cliche :P If I were to rewrite this the DarrenMaria thing would be horrifically different, but what can I say? I was 16 and had no idea what I was doing! And now I'm 19 off to actually learn how to write professionally and well, the way my writing's changed speaks for itself! **

**I hope the future updates are to standard, but they'll be a little different in style and stuff. And I'm also planning to write an interaction of sorts (I won't go into detail - spoilers!) That'll be like a little extra, and can be either a part of this fic's canon or not: it can be whatever you want it to be when you read it :D **

**Anyway, more updates to come soon! :D**


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